


Blind Love Couldn't Win

by thisiswhyishouldntwritefanfic



Series: Fool's Errand [3]
Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Awkward Flirting, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-13 11:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 46,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiswhyishouldntwritefanfic/pseuds/thisiswhyishouldntwritefanfic
Summary: JD lives his life on the run with his mother, trying to stay one step ahead of his abusive father who won't stop hunting them. He knows they're not staying in Sherwood, Ohio, not for long.He knows, and yet he still ends up falling for Veronica Sawyer anyway.





	1. The Mouth and the Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> I finally gave up trying to fight making this a full story. I tried. I ended up with a second one-shot. And then this part happened, and I'm just... not going to try and deny it any more.
> 
> I didn't add the other parts to it, so it won't make as much sense without them, but it will all be in one piece from now on. Maybe. Um... there's always sides stories or sequels, so... yeah.
> 
> All titles (chapter and fic) are taken from lyrics from Fleet Foxes' _Fool's Errand._

* * *

_  
He doesn't like being alone with his father. Bud works the days, and his mom sometimes works nights. She says it's better this way, that he can be with someone all the time, but he doesn't like it. His father gets grumpy a lot. He smells like the icky stuff in the can._

_Other nights, his dad is strangely clingy, not letting him out of his sight, holding on too tight and constantly touching him, and while that doesn't always end up hurting him, when it does, it seems worse._

_And even if he did his schoolwork with his mom during the day, he has to go over it with his dad in the evening. Bud always has other lessons for him to learn, and he never likes them._

_They hurt._

_He asks once why he didn't go to school like other kids._

_His father doesn't answer, but he still never asks again. It hurts too much._

* * *

As first kisses went, that was everything Veronica had dreamed about and yet nothing at all like she'd expected. She'd thought it would be something hesitant and embarrassing, sloppy or bumping into each other, even if it was sweet and romantic. What he did when he took hold of her face was completely in his control, and if he didn't know what he was doing, he didn't show it at all. He was insistent, demanding, like he couldn't get enough of her, and she admittedly wanted more of him.

She could feel his coat under her fingers, and she wondered if she was brave enough to move her hands down and underneath it, under his shirt, even. Would he have any muscles? Hair?

Her legs felt all rubbery, like they did after a long run in gym—she was so not an athlete and she envied Heather McNamara how easy she made that stuff look—and it was getting harder to breathe.

That didn't mean she wanted to stop. She didn't.

He did finally pull back just a little, resting his head against hers as he drew in a breath. She tried to think of something to say and couldn't. She'd ruin everything if she said, “wow.”

That was the only thing coming to mind.

Well, that and _do me,_ but she so wasn't saying that here to a guy she barely knew, even if he was the most interesting person she'd ever met. That didn't say much, really, since she didn't travel much and everyone around here was about the same as they'd been when she was in elementary school. Meaner, but the same people.

She decided words weren't necessary now that she had some breath back, so she kissed him, pulling him close and trying to make it as good for him as it had been for her. She didn't know what she was doing, of course, but she liked the taste of him, even if she could tell he was a smoker—there was a hint of ash mixed into it.

He pulled away again, this time much further, and he blinked, as though he had no idea what they'd just done.

“Um...”

She tried to smile. “That was...”

“I have to go,” he said, and she frowned, not sure what to make of that. He'd just kissed the hell out of her—twice, even if the second time was her doing—and he was going to leave?

“School starts in like five minutes.”

“Less,” Duke muttered, and Veronica's cheeks flushed to remember that she and the others were there, not that she hadn't been a bit warm from the kiss.

“I told you. Not going,” he said, not looking at her as he walked away, cutting across the lawn toward the street.

Veronica started to go after him, but Chandler caught her arm, coming around to block her path.

“Don't even _think_ about it. Not that you were thinking when you kissed him, but you are not going after him. That's just pathetic. Get over it. Forget him. He's not worth it.”

“He did kind of... leave you,” McNamara said, putting her hand on Veronica's shoulder to comfort her. “Not really a good sign. Maybe he didn't like the kiss.”

Veronica was almost sure that wasn't it. She'd been close to him, and everything she knew about kisses and boys said he'd liked it a lot, but he'd left afterward so awkwardly that she couldn't make sense of him. She wanted to, because that was intense and wonderful and she wanted it again.

And she wanted to know why he'd run off on her.

She had to find him. She needed to know so much more about him, not just why he'd kissed her or why he'd left. Everything.

Hell, she'd settle for his name.

* * *

He'd call it making a dramatic exit if anyone asked, not that they would, but if they did, that's what he'd say. He wouldn't admit to what it really was—running off like a damned coward. He didn't want to be one, but his mind had chosen the absolute worst thing to remember in the middle of kissing a pretty girl he couldn't stop thinking about, and he'd had to flee.

He couldn't let anyone see him if the panic got him. He was pathetic and stupid when it did, and if he cried in front of her, she'd only laugh at him. Her friends would for sure, and he wouldn't ever live that down, just like he hadn't in half a dozen other schools.

He stopped against a tree down the street, taking a few breaths to steady himself. He could sometimes head these things off, get himself under control, but it took a lot of work and usually didn't last. Once he got set off, he'd be on edge for a while and every new little thing could push him right over again.

He closed his eyes, digging in his coat for his cigarettes only to come up with an empty pack. Fuck. He would be out now. That was just perfect, wasn't it?

He shook his head at himself and started walking again. It could help, though it rarely did. He didn't like being this out in the open and exposed. He had nightmares about that, too, about walking along and having his father snatch him off the sidewalk, dragging him into a car—a van, it was almost always a van, one of his work ones with the dark panels and tools inside. He'd be stuck there, looking up at the tools, knowing his father could use any of them to hurt him...

He stopped, forcing himself to breathe again. If more of his nightmares were just dreams, he'd have an easier time of things. Unfortunately, too many of them blended into things that had happened. His father had found him before, on his own, yanked him into the van and hurt him.

JD needed to find some place without memories, someplace safe. He didn't know many—any of those kinds of places, but he did need more cigarettes and the convenience store would have a slushie, too. He could get both there, and he kind of liked those stores for some odd reason.

Nowhere was safe, but it was nice enough.

He crossed the street, cutting across toward the center of town, to the commercial center and shops, away from the quiet suburbs and school. He was going to need a lot more than cigarettes, though he knew his mother's bottle in the room was empty.

He'd checked.

He didn't know if he could swipe one from the liquor store, but he was willing to try it. He wouldn't even mind the stuff that came from the convenience store, though he usually ended up in places with slushie machines more than once, and he knew that going back after stealing something was just stupid.

No, he should do it somewhere else, ditch his coat and put on a hat, make it harder to recognize him if anyone spotted him again. If he had money, he might try buying one, since not everyone bothered with checking ID, but it was a lot easier to get away with buying cigarettes than it was alcohol.

And even if it wasn't, he didn't have much in the way of money, only the emergency fund he was supposed to use if they had to run separately, and he couldn't afford to spend that.

He hated this, all of it.

He hated himself even more, coward that he was.

* * *

“So I hear you're easy,” Ram Sweeney said, leaning against Veronica's locker. “You let any old guy kiss you right in front of everyone.”

Veronica glared at him, aware of everyone watching them. Chandler gave her a slight shrug as if to say she'd brought this on herself. She supposed in a way she had, but that didn't mean that she deserved to have Ram accusing her of anything or around her, period. She wasn't easy, and a kiss didn't make her that. She could kiss who she pleased—and yes, she'd chosen to kiss a guy she didn't know the name of—but she had that right.

She wouldn't be shamed.

“What, Ram? Are you sad he didn't kiss you?”

“What? No. Gross. I'm not a faggot.”

Veronica just shrugged, walking away from him and into the restroom. She went to the sink and splashed water on her face. She hated this place so much sometimes. She didn't like her friends, didn't like herself.

She did like the boy, she thought, but she barely knew him. Maybe that was part of his appeal. 

After the bell rang and the other students filled away into classrooms, Veronica left the restroom. She'd done this before, cut second period, since she didn't have class with any of the Heathers then. She knew they'd give her crap if she stayed gone all day, but she didn't know that she even cared anymore.

She was tired of being Heather Chandler's project, tired of jock jerks like Ram, and tired of faking smiles so she could pretend she wasn't miserable all the time.

She left the school and headed out into town. She didn't know where the new kid lived, and he didn't look like someone from that new subdivision going in behind Martha Dunnstock's house. They were probably renting, if anything.

She knew of some apartments, more toward downtown and the poor side of Sherwood, which would be another reason Chandler wouldn't want her having anything to do with this kid. She didn't care. She wanted to know him, at least to have a name to go along with the memory.

She made her way up the sidewalk, trying to think of where else he might have gone. He didn't seem to have a car or any other kind of ride, not a bicycle or anything, so he would have walked, and he would have been somewhere along this route...

She sighed. She was an idiot. She wasn't going to find him like this.

Though, she thought as she looked back at the convenience store, she might as well make ditching worth her while and get a snack. If she picked up some barbeque corn nuts, Chandler might be a little nicer. Not much, but some.

It might even be worth it.

* * *

JD was still debating with himself about the beer in the refrigerator when the bell dinged to tell the clerk there was someone else in the building. Out of habit, he looked over. He couldn't help it—any new person in any room always had some chance of being his father, and he had to know.

It wasn't his father.

It might even be worse.

Her.

Veronica.

How had she known to come here? How had she found him? He didn't understand this. He'd left. He was going to avoid her for the rest of their stay here—which was going to be short because he was going to tell his mother they had to leave tonight—and that was the end of it.

He wasn't supposed to see her again. Ever.

And yet he couldn't take his eyes off of her. She hadn't noticed him yet, her eyes not searching the room the way his always did no matter where he was. She was headed for a specific rack, one thing on her mind, and he liked her single-mindedness. He envied her that freedom, the not looking over her shoulder constantly like he did.

He hadn't even realized he'd moved toward her until he was way too damned close. No matter what he did, it would be awkward. She was about to see him, and there was no way of avoiding it. He was going to get noticed and make a fool of himself. Again.

So he spoke, and he didn't know where the hell it came from, but it stumbled out of his mouth anyway? “Are you gonna pull a super-chug with that?”

She looked up at him, blinking in surprise. “No, but after that kiss, I think the least you could do is buy me a slushie.”

Fuck. She liked slushies, too. Well, who didn't? They were great. The best of the best. They tasted great and were addicting as hell. Sometimes he thought he was more hooked on them than he was cigarettes, and he already knew he couldn't quit them.

“You kissed me back. I think you owe me the slushie.”

“No that would make us even.”

“Fine, we're even,” he said, though he did want a slushie and couldn't really afford to spend what little he had on one. That was why he'd been considering stealing the three-two beer from inside that cooler. 

She shifted her feet, looking about as nervous as he was. “I see you know your convenience-speak pretty well.”

He supposed that was a safe enough topic compared to asking him why he'd kissed her. “Yeah, well.. I've been moved around all my life... Dallas, Baton Rouge, Vegas... Sherwood, Ohio. There's always been a 'Snappy Snack Shack.' Any town, any time: pop a ham-and-cheese in the microwave, and feast on a turbo dog. Keeps me sane.”

“That why you said you weren't staying?”

He nodded. “Usually not around for more than a couple days. Week at the most.”

She looked like he'd sucker punched her. That or kicked a puppy. “I don't... then why were you at school? Why did you kiss me?”

“The extreme always seems to make an impression.”

“Oh, you made an impression all right,” she said, and he studied her, trying to understand her tone. Was she angry or interested? He knew he shouldn't want the second, and leaving her with the first would be easier—for her, at least. “You're making me crazy. Since I've met you, my life has been complete chaos.”

“Chaos killed the dinosaurs.”

“My point exactly.”

He smiled. “Oh, I think you like it. That's why you're mad. You like my kind of chaos.”

“And if I do?”

Hell if he knew. He had to leave, but he wanted to kiss her again, and maybe this time the memories of his father wouldn't ruin it. “Did you say a cherry or coke slushie?”

“I didn't... Cherry,” she said, but then she put a hand on his chest. “Only if—and this is a big if—you start making sense for a change.”

“Can't promise that.”

“Don't kiss me again.”

“Can't promise that, either.”


	2. I Knew, Oh, I Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite knowing better, JD continues to talk to Veronica.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the tone of this one shifts pretty sharply at the end... though there's warning hints in the flashback.
> 
> It wouldn't be me without dark backstory, see the username, it's a disclaimer of sorts...
> 
> It is cute for a lot of it, kind of. I'm not good at overly cute, though. Sorry.
> 
> Also, of side note... I gave JD's mom a name in Static, and I've decided it's what I'm always going to use for her, even if it's not established in canon.

* * *

_Tricia has been worried for a while, but the last few days it's been worse. Their little boy seems so miserable, and she doesn't know what to think. She knows it's hard on all of them, the moving around, though Bud seems to like it as much as she and Jason hate it._

_Then again, she's always known that Bud thrives on chaos, and when she first met him, she liked that about him, thought she loved it._

_She's older now, wiser, and she doesn't love it. She's not even so sure she loves Bud, but sometimes she sees glimpses of the man she thought she was marrying and thinks she can still make it work, for Jason's sake._

_She's with Bud in the kitchen, and Jason has disappeared again, like he always does about this time, again worrying her._

_“I think we should put Jason in public school next time.”_

_“What the hell for?” Bud asks, leaning against the counter and sipping from his beer. “He's doing fine in school. I know. I check all his lessons when I get home.”_

_She grimaces at the reminder. Bud's so harsh on Jason's schoolwork. He's only in first grade, after all, but he seemed to expect perfect handwriting and essays, not the short misspelled sentences their son is still working on._

_“I think he's lonely,” she says. “We need to give him a chance to be normal, to have friends. He should be out there where he can see the world instead of cooped up in here. He told me he doesn't see the point in going outside. That's not right.”_

_Bud shrugs. “He doesn't need to go outside if he doesn't want to.”_

_“You like exercising. You're all about fitness. Why would you want him to stay shut up inside?”_

_Bud finishes his beer, crushing the can in his hand. “We agreed we were homeschooling him. If you can't handle doing it, I'll take care of it. He's not going to school. End of discussion.”_

_She stares after her husband, not understanding his reaction at all._

_She hears something behind her and turns, finding Jason hiding in the cupboard under the sink. “What are you doing down there, sweetheart?”_

_“Hiding.”_

_“Why were you hiding? Did I interrupt your game?”_

_“I don't want to play games with Dad.”_

_That has her frowning all over again, but she forces a smile and holds her hand out to her son. “What do you say we go to the park, huh? Maybe even get some ice cream? I don't have to work today, so we can have as much fun as we want.”_

_“Is he coming?”_

_“I can ask him to—”_

_“No, please,” Jason begs. “Just you and me. Please.”_

_She nods, giving another glance toward the living room where her husband is now sitting, and she thinks it's time she had a real talk with Jason, in private. Ice cream would hardly make up for telling him she's thinking she should divorce his father, but if Bud's not willing to change this life, she has to, for Jason, who deserves much better than being dragged all over the country like this._

* * *

“What can you promise?” Veronica heard herself ask, not sure what made her do it because he was probably going to bolt on her again. “Or are you going to tell me you don't make promises?”

“I don't,” he said, looking into her eyes and leaning forward like he might just kiss her again, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't want it. She wanted him, and not just for one kiss but a lot more, though she had to think part of that was just because she didn't know anything about him.

“Because you move around a lot?”

“Because promises are easily broken.”

“I'm not,” she said, and wondered where the hell that came from as he smirked at her. She knew her cheeks were red all over again. “What if I were the one to buy you the slushie?”

“Depends. Is this a slushie because you want a slushie and I haven't paid for one like you think I should have yet or is this a slushie because you intend to kiss me now?”

She found herself smiling. “Do you need a reason to have a slushie?”

“Most of the time, no, but you seem to be the exception to a lot of rules here,” he told her, and she licked her lips, her mouth dry. She found that flattering, even if it wasn't. And she did want another kiss, and she was not far from going for it herself. 

What was it about him? The eyes? They were intense. Her stomach flip-flopped every time he looked at her. And his voice, that was something, too, unique and different, and then there was the way he smelled, which was an odd thing to think of, but while she'd gotten BO and beer from Ram earlier, he was a mix of soap and ash.

“Which rule?”

“What?”

“Which rule am I the exception to?”

“Oh. That.”

She nodded. “Yes, that. Are we talking... the rule that says never admit the truth? Only kiss girls you don't like? Be a gentleman? Which one?”

“More like... don't bother talking to anyone because you won't be here tomorrow and there's no point in making friends... or anything else.”

She felt that like a kick in the gut. “You're really leaving tomorrow?”

“Maybe. Sometimes it happens. I told you. We move around a lot.” He shrugged. She waited for more, but he didn't give it. “Look, I'm not going to buy you a slushie. We should just go our separate ways and be done with it because this isn't happening. Can't happen. It was nice flirting with you, but that's it. That's all we get.” 

He started walking away, and she rounded the aisle, reaching the door before he did and blocking his path. He frowned at her, though it wouldn't be that hard for him to get away—there was another door right behind him.

“Why?”

“I'm not answering that.”

“Oh, I think I deserve to know why you're being like this,” she said. “People don't just pack up and move in two days of being a place without a reason. You don't almost run away from a kiss in a panic without a reason. You don't just leave without a reason.”

“And maybe I have plenty of reasons but I don't want to tell you any of them,” he said, and she winced, though that was coming, she was sure of it. He wasn't going to tell her, and she wanted so much to know, to understand.

She'd barely met him, but she found it hard to let him go. She wanted to understand, and she felt like if she could just find the way past one little door, she'd open a floodgate and know everything, and she couldn't say why it was so important that she did, but she knew she'd regret it forever if she didn't even try.

“You at least owe me a name,” she said, and he stopped, staring at her.

* * *

She didn't have any idea how complicated that was for him. He'd stopped giving it out as much as possible, since he couldn't remembered every new variation on his initials that his mother had given him to use, though she'd stopped trying to do anything much with the names or anything else a few years ago. Somehow Bud had too good of reach, and it didn't matter if she changed her name or his, Bud would find them.

It was easier, too, not to lie about that.

Or to think about the way his father said his name. He swore that man had ruined the sound of it for him, and if he never heard it again, it would be too soon.

“You have a name.”

“I don't remember you offering yours,” he said, stalling as much as he could. He wondered if she'd forget if he kissed her again. Maybe he could make that happen, and he could leave after he got past her, leave her far behind.

Even if he felt like a complete jerk for doing it and looking in those eyes had him regretting even the thought of such a thing. He didn't want to leave her or say goodbye, but how did he explain what his life was? He knew it was stupid, but it always seemed like talking about his father was like asking him to show up and hurt them all over again.

“I'm Veronica,” she said, “but you probably already knew that, since Heather did yell it at me earlier.”

“I did.”

“Whatever yours is, you can tell me,” she said, and her hand took his, soft and gentle, as soothing as his mom's after a bad night with his father. He almost felt safe with her, and that wasn't possible. She was just some girl, a stranger he didn't even know.

“I prefer JD,” he finally said, since he'd gotten used to his initials and that was the only real name he had anymore. Jason was the one from his nightmares, even if his mother sometimes slipped and used it. She'd never twisted it like his father had, but that didn't matter.

“Well, JD, do you want the slushie, or would you rather go for a real meal?” Veronica asked, and he found himself staring at her again, confused. “I mean, I had thought about bringing back some corn nuts to appease Heather, but I was kind of hungry myself, so...”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Maybe,” she said, flustered again, red cheeks and a bit of panic in her eyes.

Damn, but she was cute like that. Hard to resist.

He should, but as he'd already told her, she made him want to break all the rules. He had already spent more time with her in the two days he'd been in Sherwood than he had with anyone outside his mother in the last five years.

“There's a place nearby. We go there when we cut class. Food's decent. Company might even be a lot better.”

“You are trouble,” he told her, and she bit her lip like maybe that pleased her. He was tempted to do the same, only he wanted a kiss that wasn't overwhelmed by memories, and he almost went for it, but he managed to stop himself in time, using her distraction to push the door open behind her.

“That was a dirty trick.”

“I know dirtier ones,” he said, and she looked like she just might tell him to show her, but then she took his hand again. 

“Come on. Diner's this way.”

* * *

This couldn't be love. It made no sense for it to be love.

Veronica had just met him, and he might be funny and gorgeous and so intense he made her forget how to speak, but that didn't mean it was anything more than that. She didn't believe in love at first sight. She'd argued with Betty about it after they'd watched a movie, something Disney with princesses and princes and love that supposedly happened in an instant, and Veronica had pointed out how impossible that was over and over again.

She still believed it was, and yet she felt in some ways like she knew him—which was stupid, he still hadn't told her his name. She found herself flustered in his presence, which wasn't really the stuff of great romances, not that it wasn't funny in some romantic comedies, but this wasn't one of them. She didn't want to be in one, either, because she'd look like more of a fool than she already did.

Though, she was apparently into the romance part of it, because her hand was in his and had been for longer than she'd realized—she wasn't even sure he knew he had it. Somewhere in the convenience store, it had happened, and she couldn't say when, just that she didn't think she wanted him to notice or he might let go.

He kept insisting he wasn't sticking around and she didn't know what to think of him, since one minute he'd be like this—cute and flirty and incredibly intense, making her stomach do that butterfly flip-flop every time he met her eyes—and the next he'd be pretending he'd never spoken to her and acting like he didn't care if she lived or died.

“So,” she said, not sure what else she could say right now, and she was afraid speaking would ruin everything, but the silence was getting a little awkward. “Where were you first? You know, before all the moving around?”

He shrugged. “My mom's from Minneapolis, so I guess I sort of start there, but we were always moving. It's all I've ever known.”

“Must be rough, moving from place to place.”

“Everybody's life has got static. Is yours perfect?”

She snorted. “You saw that inspection Heather was doing earlier. You know it's not. I don't really like my friends.”

“I don't like your friends, either.”

“It's like they're people I work with and our job is being popular and shit.”

“Maybe it's time to take a vacation.”

“With you?” she asked, and he frowned, like the idea of someone wanting to spend that much time in his company was insane. Or maybe she was. She didn't know him, and she was offering to run away with him? That was stupid, much as she really was starting to hate it here with the Heathers.

He didn't say anything.

She forced herself to change the subject. “With all the moving around you say you do, why bother with Westerburg? Why not homeschool?”

He tensed. “Um... Long story.”

“I've got time.”

“Maybe I don't.”

“I see. It's something else you don't want to tell me. It's fine. You don't have to. I just... I was curious. It seems like it would be easier.”

He looked off into the distance. “It wasn't. Just leave it at that.”

She actually was going to push, but they'd reached the diner. He tugged on the door handle and held it open for her. He was a gentleman, despite what he'd said that first time they met, and she smiled at him as she walked in. She led him back to the smoking section, knowing he'd rather be there and this place didn't turn away any of them or make a fuss if they might be underage—they liked the business more than they cared about the laws.

She reached into her purse and took out her pack, passing him one. He took it, using his lighter to light hers before doing the same with his.

“Thanks.”

He shrugged. “You shared the cigarettes.”

“I saw you use the last of yours earlier,” she said, “and since I sort of stole one, I figured I owed you.”

“This whole 'who owes who' thing is getting confusing. How are we going to keep track of it?”

“Maybe we should just kiss each other senseless and lose count forever.”

He put his hand over hers. “I think I like that idea.”

* * *

“Switch me tables, Patti.”

“What?” Tricia hoped she hadn't jumped too much on that one. She still wasn't good with people sneaking up on her, and she was already tired, since she'd barely had four hours between shifts, losing one of them to taking Jason to school.

“You heard me. I'll take the greasy truckers and you can have mine.”

“Why?”

“Teenage lovebirds at table six. Makes me sick,” Leonore said, shaking her head in disgust. “So cute. So happy. So young.”

Tricia almost expected to see spit hit the floor after that. She knew Leonore had been divorced five times, so she figured she understood the bitterness, but still, they were just kids.

She ignored the stab of guilt she felt over her own child never getting a chance to have that sort of thing. Bud had done so much damage, and their life on the run did the rest, really.

She adjusted the little hat in her hair before grabbing the waters Leonore had set out for the couple, carrying them with her over to the table. Leonore wasn't kidding. The two of them had the table blocked, trying to suck each other's faces off over it, and she had a feeling getting their order wouldn't be easy.

She set the water down on the table. “Did you want anything besides water to drink?”

The girl broke off the kiss, backing down and turning red, and it was almost funny until she got her first good look at the boy in question.

What the hell? Since when did Jason—well, no, he wasn't a little boy any longer, and she knew that, but he'd never—he didn't do this. He barely spoke to anyone, and yet he was making out with a girl in public?

Was this a joke at her expense? This was not funny.

And he was smoking again. Damn it.

“I think we should have a word in private, young man.”

The girl frowned. “Look, I think you're new, but Mac has a policy about the kids around here, and he's never hassled us before. If you think that kiss was bad, you should have been here when Ram and Kurt had the cheerleading team... um... wishing them well, I guess you could call it.”

Jason leaned back in his seat and laughed. “Relax, Ronnie. She's only mad at me. Mom, this is Veronica. Veronica, this is my mother. Her name tag says Patti, but don't let it fool you. She doesn't like that nickname any more than I like most of mine.”

“Oh,” the girl said, getting even redder. “Just kill me now.”

“Ah, it's fine,” he said, reaching over to comfort her as she banged her head into the table. “Don't get too dramatic. It was just a kiss. And honestly? She's more mad at me for smoking. 'Cuse us for a second, okay?”

The girl nodded, not lifting her head up from the table. Jason rose, and Tricia escorted him out to the back of the restaurant, wanting to be as far away from the others as she could, and the windows couldn't see this part of the lot.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in right now?”

He snorted. “For a kiss?”

“For ditching school, smoking, and yes, for the kiss, but only because you know you... You can't,” Tricia said, hating herself for the words. “You're young, and it's only right you feel young and act young when you are, but you have to think of the consequences—”

“It was a kiss. Saliva was the only body fluid exchanged.”

Tricia winced. “Don't be like this.”

“I don't need a lecture on sexual responsibility from you,” he said. “Not only did you make one huge, glaringly bad choice in that regard, but if you really want to get technical about it, that whole lesson on 'the birds and bees' was already too late when I was five.”

She flinched. “Jason—”

“Don't call me that,” he snapped. “Don't _ever_ call me that. That's what he called me.”

“I know,” she whispered. She hated that the name she'd chosen for him had been corrupted by his father. She reached out for his arm. “Please, I—I'm just worried. You know I am. You know we could have to leave tomorrow, and you might never see this girl again.”

“Don't you think I know, that, too?” he demanded. “I know, okay? I know it's my fault. I know he won't stop hunting me. I know he won't let me go. I know you had to run because of what he did to me, that he wouldn't have hurt you if he hadn't—”

She put her fingers over his lips. “This is not your fault.”

He lowered his head onto her shoulder, and she knew he'd never believe that.


	3. What Have I Got if Not a Thought?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JD's mom comforts him after his upset, and things get awkward while they try to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I knew what I was doing with this chapter. Now, I don't think I did, and it fought me, and I finally said, "okay, let's just end there."
> 
> I'm doing very well today, yes, I am. Yes, yes.

* * *

_“You're not eating your ice cream,” she says, frowning as she watches Jason stir his spoon around in the mess. It's melting fast, and she's glad she didn't get him a cone or it would be all over him by now. “Is something wrong?”_

_He shakes his head, turning back to his ice cream and making an effort to eat it. He's covering up something, and she knows it. She doesn't understand it, though she knows he heard his father when he got angry and irrational about trying public school. He might be scared._

_“Jason, you know you can tell me anything, right? Anything you feel or think or are scared of or want to do... You don't have to hold back.”_

_He looks at her, wounded. “I told you it was nothing. Why does everyone think I'm lying?”_

_“What do you mean? I don't think you're lying. I think maybe you had a reason—a good one—for not telling me, but I'm telling you it's okay because I won't be angry or upset. I just want to know what's going on with you.”_

_He frowns. “I do school. I eat. I go to bed. That's it.”_

_She winces. “That's not really all, is it? I mean, you and I do more than your lessons. We play, and you play when your father is home, don't you?”_

_He stabs his spoon into the last solid bit of ice cream. “No. We don't play.”_

_“Doesn't he let you do anything fun? I thought you two were watching movies together, at least.”_

_“I don't like his movies of explosions, and he doesn't—well, he used to not want me to move at all during them, but then he changed his mind and I don't—can we go somewhere else now?”_

_“What's wrong with the park?” Tricia asks, trying to understand what is going on with her son. “Is your father hurting you if you squirm too much during the movies?”_

_“No.”_

_“You swear he's not? It's okay to tell me if he is. I don't want him hurting you. It's not right for him to hurt you. Ever. If he hits you, you need to tell me.”_

_Jason shakes his head, looking confused. “He doesn't hit me.”_

_Tricia tries not to show how incredibly relieved she is by that. “Look, I've been doing a lot of thinking. I'd like to move someplace and stay there. No more motels. I'd like a house, like we rent sometimes, but I don't think we can afford one, not if...”_

_“If?”_

_“If your dad isn't willing to stay in one place,” Tricia admits. “If he won't, I think we will, just you and me. You okay with that?”_

_Jason nods._

_“You can go to school like the other kids do and make friends,” she said, reaching over to cup his cheek. “You deserve so much more than this, and I promise you, we'll get it. It's going to take a bit. I need to save up some money first, just in case. I want to be ready before I tell your father. So... I know what I said, but don't tell him anything about this. Just... keep it between you and me for now until I have the money. I may have to work more, okay?”_

_He frowns again, but he nods, and she both loves and hates how much he trusts her. It's overwhelming, and she's so afraid she's going to disappoint him._

* * *

Tricia held onto her son as he shuddered through whatever horrible memory had come back to him after that little spat. She should have handled it better, she knew that, and she hated seeing him like this. She shouldn't have let herself get so upset over his kiss. Hadn't she just been wanting her son to have that part of a normal teenage life? Why was she trying to deny him it?

She knew why.

It would break Jason's heart to have to run again, and she couldn't be sure Bud wouldn't find them. She'd tried hard to make sure he didn't, changing cars and buses like crazy and using different names, even altering the transcript she gave to the school. She knew it wasn't quite right, but the thing was, Jason was smarter than his grades showed—they got hurt by all the running they did.

She'd go back to homeschooling him if he didn't panic like this almost at the mention of it.

If she'd had any idea what Bud was doing to him after his lessons... 

She winced. She had failed him so badly. It wasn't like she hadn't seen how miserable Jason was, but she kept giving it benign reasons, even when she knew her marriage was a loveless disaster.

She wasn't sure she would have ever thought Bud was that kind of sick unless she'd seen it with her own eyes. He could drink too much, and there were a few times she thought he'd hit her, but he never had. Jason swore he wasn't hitting him.

He'd done far worse instead.

Jason pulled back, calmer than before. He rubbed a hand over his face, probably trying to check for tears even if he was pretending he wasn't.

“I'm not happy about you smoking,” she said, knowing he'd rather not acknowledge that moment of weakness. “You know that's bad for you.”

“It keeps me calm.”

“And ditching school isn't okay. Just because we move a lot is no reason not to try. It's not easy, but what if this is the time we get to stay instead of run?”

“It never is.”

“Isn't it worth trying? Some hope?”

He snorted. “Are you going to apply that to me making friends? Because you really weren't happy about Veronica.”

“I know. I'm sorry I said that about the girl. Sweetheart, I want you to have friends. I want you to be happy. I wouldn't even mind seeing you fall in love, but I will always worry. I'm your mom. I'm a bit neurotic. And your father is still out there.”

Jason turned away from her. “I know that. I tried not to—I wasn't going to bother talking to anyone at this school, like always. It's just... easier that way. Then... I saw her. I don't know what it was. I couldn't look away. She didn't seem to be able to, either. She fell up the stairs. It was... cute.”

Or at least a bit funny, Tricia said, torn as to how to feel about the smile that came to her son's face just talking about this girl. He liked her, it was clear, but if he had to leave her...

“And we talked. Flirted. Maybe. I don't know.”

Tricia thought it was both endearing and sad that her son wasn't sure what flirting was. He should know, but he was standoffish and even a bit shy with others, not that he coped well when people noticed how attractive he was.

“I told myself afterward that I wasn't going to talk to her again, but then I saw her again today. I tried to ignore her, like yesterday was nothing, even tried—tried to make her dislike me—but it didn't work. I know that's how it has to be.”

“Ja—Jay,” Tricia caught herself in time, shortening it like she'd done it on purpose. “You don't have to push people away like that. I know it hurts when we have to leave, but you can still talk to people, learn about them... You didn't do anything wrong.”

“I know better,” he insisted. “We're going to leave again. We always do, but there's something about her... She doesn't make me feel... worked up and strange like other people do. I'm not all tense. Not... It's comfortable, almost, even when it's awkward. She doesn't... I _kissed_ her.”

Amused, Tricia couldn't help saying, “I noticed.”

He shook his head. “No, you know what I mean. It was never like this before. I never wanted... I've bounced from school to school and town to town and never... there were people... they seemed nice enough... but this girl... I never wanted to kiss anyone before, but I kissed her.”

Tricia knew that was big, dangerously so. He really liked this girl for things to have gone that far, and she couldn't help worrying all over again. Who was she, that she had this much effect on him?

“And I actually liked it, at first,” he whispered, then winced. “When I started it, I was okay with it, but she kissed me back and... and I remembered him...”

Tricia reached out and pulled him close again, holding onto him and trying to comfort him. She knew this was hard for him, and it ate at her, being unable to stop that pain or do anything to ease it. His father had hurt him in ways she couldn't heal.

“This is stupid,” he said, yanking himself free of her. “It doesn't matter. We're not staying. I can't get attached. I can't... I don't get that sort of thing... Not me.”

She put her hands on his face. “No, you do, and you will. You can't let your father convince you that you're not worth it. This life is hard, and I won't pretend it isn't, but you did not deserve what he did to you and you can't let him or his poisonous words take that from you.”

“It's not even real. What I feel... It's not... right. I'm not... right. I can't feel like this about someone I just met.”

“Emotions are funny things. Sometimes strangers we just met seem closer to us than people we've known for years. We can feel things we didn't think we were ever going to feel again, and faster than we thought we could, but that doesn't make them wrong.”

“Like you and Scott?” Jason asked. “You dated him, right?”

She nodded. She'd tried to ignore him at first, that handyman who always came into the diner for his lunch, starting to sit in her section every day. She'd thought he was kind, and a good tipper, and that was about all she wanted to know about him, even if he was cute and didn't set her on edge like most of her male customers. She wanted to keep it simple, but they'd talk a bit each day and as time went on, ran into each other running errands and talked then, his calm manners and gentleness winning over a skeptic, traumatized Jason, and she'd finally agreed to see him on a real date.

And another.

Sometimes she thought she would have married him, that she loved him more than she'd ever loved Bud, but she knew that was impossible. She'd been with him when Bud found Jason again, alone, and she'd had to track him through three states before she had a chance to get her son back.

She would never forgive herself for that, and she knew she was never dating again, not ever. 

“We should probably go back inside,” Tricia told him. “Your friend is going to be wondering what happened to us, and if I know Leonore, she's already complaining that I'm not working, and I can't afford to lose this job.”

He nodded, starting inside. She followed him, giving a last look around and hoping her unease was just the usual and not a sign that someone had been watching them.

* * *

JD held the door open for his mom, and she smiled at him, patting his cheek and making him grimace. She'd raised him to be polite, and sometimes he didn't mind, but other times it was a pain in the ass. He didn't need it right now, figuring he looked a lot like he'd been close to crying, and he didn't actually want to face Veronica like this.

“Hey, Mac,” his mother called as soon as they were inside. “Can I take my lunch? My son's here with his friend, and I'd like to eat with him if I could.”

The man she'd spoken to came out of the kitchen, up to the counter. “This your boy?”

“Yes.”

“Good looking kid,” Mac said, wiping greasy fingers on his apron, and JD tensed up, feeling like he might be sick. “Looks pretty strong. He got a job?”

“No,” JD answered for himself, because he could. His mom did look at him, and he shrugged. He wasn't lying. She had yet let him do any real work, even if it would help if he had money coming in, too. He could be earning his own, and he wanted to, since then he wouldn't have to give up slushies to make sure he still had enough for a bus ticket or be out of smokes like he was right now.

“Hmm. You come back to me and talk to me after you eat. Maybe we make you busboy.”

That wasn't too bad a gig, but it would be social suicide here, since Veronica's popular friends came her often. “What, you think I want to spend my days washing your dishes and taking out your trash?”

“There are worse jobs, son.”

“Not your son, and I'm not stupid. I know there are,” JD told him. “Hers must really suck because she looks like something curdled her milk before it crawled up her butt and died.”

The other waitress glared at him, but Mac just burst out laughing while his mother went completely red, mortified.

“I like him,” Mac said. “He's got a mouth on him, that's for damned sure, but I never heard a better description of Leonore in my life. Tell you what, Patti. Lunch is on me. You go ahead and have a seat. I'll bring it to you myself.”

His mom forced a smile. “Thank you, Mac.”

She shoved him back toward the table, and he saw Veronica snuffing out a cigarette in a hurry, forcing a smile for him that faltered when she saw his mother was still with him.

“I got read the riot act. It's over,” JD told her, sitting down. “What's good here to eat? Mom's boss is treating us.”

Veronica tried to smile again. “Honestly? Not much, but I kind of like the shakes.”

“Hmm. I think I like picturing you with a straw in your mouth.”

His mom elbowed him. “Really?”

“Um... sorry? This stuff just seems to come out when I'm talking to her. Maybe because she looks so cute when she's blushing like that.”

Veronica wrinkled her nose. “I'm not so sure I like you right now. Then again... you keep confusing me like that.”

He shrugged. He couldn't explain why he was doing it without explaining his dad, and he was not talking about his dad. He'd already said too much back there with his mom, and he knew it was stupid, but he felt like talking about him was asking his dad to show up, and he didn't want that.

He really didn't want it here. No, he didn't like Sherwood much, but he couldn't seem to stay away from Veronica. She was something else, and he wanted to be around her. He hadn't had that before in his life... like ever.

“I think my son enjoys being confusing,” his mom told her with a smile.

“I bet.”

This was getting more and more awkward by the minute. He tried to think of something that might make it better, but for the most part, all he could come up with was leaving, and that wouldn't help. He wouldn't have wanted his mom to meet Veronica yet—he hadn't intended for them to meet, ever, as he was still trying to talk himself into leaving Veronica behind.

“They offered me a job here. I think Mac has a crush on my mom.”

Veronica kept her eyes on her napkin. “Well, I don't think it's a bad thing. The job, I mean. Just... this is Westerburg High's favorite place to ditch, so you'd have to worry about them hassling you here when you were working. And believe me, if you think Heather Chandler was bad...”

“I should fear the actual jocks instead of the homecoming queen?”

“Yes.”

He shrugged. “I'm still thinking about it. I could use the income.”

Veronica flushed. “I kind of have an allowance. It's higher than Chandler's but I don't tell her that. My mom didn't want me taking a job at the mall, so that was the compromise. More money in allowance, and they supposedly get the comfort of knowing I'm home safe each night.”

“Didn't Chandler say something about Remington?”

“The college?” his mother asked. “Are you taking classes there or something?”

“Or something. I heard it's the party school of the state,” JD said. “You should have seen the ones that showed up at our hotel last night.”

His mom frowned. “There were rowdy college kids there last night?”

“Yup. And those walls are really thin. I heard everything,” JD said, wishing he could get more of Veronica's cigarettes. He wanted done, even if his mom didn't want him using them. He was having a hard time sitting still here, and it was still hard to manage any conversation when the girl who made him want to say and do inappropriate things was sitting across from his mother.

“Yuck,” Veronica muttered. “Wait, was one of them Heather?”

“That might actually be worth a bit of blackmail, but actually... these two were from the same study group, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh.”

He saw his mom rubbing her temple. She did not seem pleased. “Do you have to do this every time?”

“Yes,” he said, smiling at her, “but you love me anyways.”

She nodded, pressing a kiss to his temple and completing his humiliation as her boss came up to drop off the chef's specials.


	4. Sight Dream of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JD and Veronica learn more about each other after their awkward meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure about this... and yet I was, and then I thought it was really long, but it's not that long, so I guess it just seemed that way. 
> 
> This story is already confusing me, a lot. Not sure what that means...

* * *

_With her plan of leaving Bud as soon as she had enough for first and last month's rent on a decent apartment—not great, just nowhere she'd get herself killed or raped on the first night she was there—Tricia feels both excited and extremely depressed as she goes about her days, taking every extra shift she could and trying every trick she knew as a waitress to increase her tips._

_Bud accuses her of making her uniform look slutty, and she rolls her eyes, because it's been a while since he's noticed her as anything other than a nag. It doesn't help that his job hit a snag, and he's waiting around for a judge to rule on it, which makes him grumpy and he drinks more._

_As much as she hates the idea, she suggests Bud take over homeschooling Jason for a bit and she'll work extra to make up the difference of the delay. She has no intention of giving him that money, it's all for when she leaves him and takes Jason away from this life, but that still feels so far away._

_Bud agrees, and she starts working even more, to where she barely sees her son at all. This is all for his good, she swears, but it's so hard not to feel guilty and like a fool._

_Maybe their life with Bud isn't as bad as she thinks, though when Jason whispers in her ear that he dreamed about them living in a house, she decides she has to keep going. It doesn't matter if she's tired. Her son is all she really has, and while everything else she's done has been a mistake, he's not, and he deserves so much better._

_She leans in the doorway, watching him sleep, tears spilling down her cheeks as she thinks of how much longer it's going to take. She was never strong enough before, and she's afraid she's still not now. She married a man to escape her parents, not that she even had it that bad, she knows that now, but at the time she'd thought he was the best and most wonderful thing she could find to change her life._

_Turns out, he's an ass, and she hates her life even more now except for Jason. He's the best of everything, and she adores him._

_Bud comes up behind her. “He's something, isn't he?”_

_“The best.”_

_Her husband's arms wrap around her, his breath hot on her neck. “What do you say we make us another?”_

* * *

The bell rang as someone came in the diner and kept on ringing, over and over, and Veronica heard JD's mom sigh as she rose. She had a feeling she knew who had just walked in, and this was not going to be good, not at all.

“That'll be the lunch rush from your school,” his mom said. “I'd better get back to work.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

“Um,” Veronica looked at her, aware she didn't know the woman's preferred name, just the one on the tag JD said she didn't like or her last name. “I don't suppose we could head out the back, could we? There's... um... Ram was kind of hassling me earlier, and I don't want him to do anything to JD because of what I said.”

JD's mom frowned. “What you said?”

“Ram implied I must be easy if I let anyone kiss me so I asked him if he was sad JD didn't kiss him,” Veronica admitted, to JD's apparent delight and his mom's dismay.

“Nice one.”

She shrugged. “I was proud of it at the time, but between him and Heather, it will be a nightmare if they find us here, and while they don't usually choose the smoking section, they'll see us walk out the door—I hate to do it, because it's not like I'm ashamed or anything, but... I don't want him... picking a fight or something stupid like that.”

“I think if he did, Mac might just ban them,” JD's mother said, “but come this way with me. We'll spare everyone for now—but Jay—I want you back in class this afternoon.”

He grimaced, looking at her, finally forcing a nod. Veronica got the impression that he was lying to her, even if she didn't know him very well. She didn't say anything, since she just wanted out before the others saw them. Chandler would probably be cruel to him and his mother, and if Ram tried to fight JD and he got hurt—Veronica would never forgive herself.

She took his hand as his mom led them out the door, the other waitress glaring at them, but Mac calling out to JD to come back and see him about the job.

He forced a smile and waved as they ducked out the back. He took a few steps away, and Veronica reached into her pocket, passing him a cigarette. He gave her a smile and used his lighter on hers first again, then his.

“God, that was awkward.”

“Your mom seems nice.”

He grimaced. “Well, yeah, but... who wants to have their mom watching everything they say and do like that?”

Veronica shrugged. “I don't know. She seemed to take it better than my parents would. They're okay with me being friends with the Heathers and going to parties and I've got a later curfew now and everything, but if I actually had a steady boyfriend, they'd flip.”

“Afraid you'll catch a baby or something and ruin your chance for college?”

She nodded. “They wanted to move me into high school out of the sixth grade because I was supposed to be this big genius... then we decided to chuck the idea, because I'd have trouble making friends, blah, blah, blah.. Now blah, blah, blah is all I do. I use my grand IQ to decide what color gloss to wear and how to hit three keggers before curfew.”

“I think I'd like to see you at a kegger.”

She grimaced. “No, you wouldn't. I've got no tolerance for alcohol. And I'm not a funny drunk, unless you think puke is hilarious. Then I'm a fucking comedic genius.”

He looked at her, an odd expression on his face. “You'd be surprised how effective puke can be sometimes.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Where else is there to go in this town?”

“So you _were_ lying about agreeing to go to school.”

He shrugged. “Mom sees it differently, but there's really no point. I'm never going to get into college. I know that. She doesn't get it, but I do. So what the hell? I'll just take that test, you know? For the GED? Makes more sense to me.”

She nodded. She could see that, much as she'd like to have him around more. “What would you do if you got one, work for Mac?”

He shook his head. “No. I don't think I'd want to work where my mom does, as much as I don't really want to go looking someplace else. She really hates the smoking, and I don't want her feeling grateful or beholden to anyone.”

Veronica frowned. “Has someone done that before, twisted her gratitude and made her... I don't know, give them something she didn't want to?”

He snorted. “They always try. They figure, lady on her own, saddled with a kid, no man in sight, working at dumps like this... she's got to be desperate, so she'll do anything she has to if she wants to get by.”

Veronica's stomach twisted up, and she didn't ask if his mom had. She had a feeling even if he said no, the answer was yes.

* * *

JD walked along with Veronica, neither of them saying much. He wasn't sure how to talk to people most of the time, since the only person he did much socializing with was his mother, and that didn't leave him much experience to fall back on, since almost no one talked to the rest of the world the way they did to their mother.

He knew he tended to mouth off, just say whatever he felt like saying, and part of that was because it could make his mom laugh or it made Veronica blush and he liked that, but also he said anything nasty he could think of to his father if he saw him, hating that bastard so much and sometimes hoping he'd piss him off enough to make him do something stupid.

He didn't always want to die, no, but he preferred it over being trapped forever with his father.

“You have anywhere you want to go or anything you want to do?”

He shook his head. “Don't know much about Sherwood. It just happened to be where we were when she was too tired to drive any longer, so... whatever. We're here. And since I'm not going back to school, there's not really anywhere to go.”

“Not back to your hotel?”

“No,” he said. “No point in that until she's off work—which isn't until late, she's always pulling doubles if she can, and she told me this morning she was able to get another, since they're short-handed. The tv's broken, and I wasn't kidding about the walls.”

“You don't like listening in?”

Maybe he might not have an issue with it if the sounds made by two guys going at it didn't remind him of his dad and things he wanted to forget. “What, you want to?”

She went red as hell again. “No. Not really. I... Um...”

He smiled at her, and she hit him before leaning her head against his arm as they walked along. He liked it, he thought, and it was strange because most people made him uncomfortable when they were that close.

“What's the longest you ever stayed in one place?” Veronica asked, and he looked over at her. She had such an innocent look on her face, no real concept of what she was asking him. She didn't know about his dad, and maybe she figured their moving around was because his mom kept having problems like jerks hitting on her or trying to push for more than she wanted to give.

“Um... ten months,” JD finally answered. Hot Springs. That one still hurt like hell. 

They'd found a nice place, and things had seemed stable. His mom's job was good, she had regular customers who tipped well, and her boss thought maybe she could be a manager. She'd met Scott, and he treated her kind, bought JD things and never made him think he'd do anything like his dad had. He used to stare at his mom like she hung the damned moon.

_“You know what your mom has? This big, beautiful heart. She doesn't even know it, has no idea how much love she's got in it, but when she looks at you, she gives it all away. She'd do anything for you, and that is just the most amazing thing I've ever seen. And she just doesn't quit. She gives everything she has for you. Hell of a woman.”_

_He looked up at Scott. “You like her, don't you?”_

_Scott laughed. “Oh, I think I fell for her first time she asked me if I wanted to order, and I don't even remember what I said. I'm just glad it wasn't 'you,' or something like that. She'd have never given me a second glance, and she'd be right not to.”_

_“He hurt her. You know that, don't you?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“So you're going to, too, aren't you?”_

_“I'd never want to,” Scott said, looking over at his mom working across the diner. “She's too special. So are you, for that matter.”_

_“Not like that. Don't say that to me.”_

_“Of course not like that. I love your mom, but... it's not the same with you. That's not... Christ, I don't know how to explain this, not to you, not even to me... I just know I'd marry her in a heartbeat, and I'd adopt you, if you'd let me.”_

JD forced himself out of that memory. They'd been such idiots then. He'd believed Scott was the best thing that ever happened to his mom, and she had, too, but then Bud found him. JD had thought his mother was dead, that he'd killed her, and he was stuck with that bastard for life.

He'd never seen Scott again.

He'd asked his mom about him a few times, but she just said she'd been wrong, and that part of their life was done.

They'd never lasted more than a month in any town after that.

And this time, as much as his mother said otherwise, he didn't think they'd last the week.

And it was going to hurt even more than it had when they'd left Hot Springs.

* * *

Veronica led JD into the park, aware again of how quiet he was. She didn't know what to say to him half the time, and she knew she was saying the wrong thing. She had a bad habit of finding the worst question to ask.

She'd upset him, and she didn't want to. She didn't know what it was that she'd done, but he seemed to have a lot of pain in him, and she kept touching on it without meaning to, since the questions she asked seemed like the sort she should ask anyone she'd just met—anyone in his unique circumstances, at least.

She'd never known anyone else who moved around as much as he did, that was for sure.

She walked over to the swing and sat down on it, letting him have the other.

“Damn, I haven't done this in a long time.”

“Me, either,” she admitted. “We used to do this all the time, me and Betty. She loved the swings. She'd even get brave and want to jump off at the high point so she could feel like she was flying.”

“Seems dumb.”

Veronica shrugged. “It probably should have hurt a lot more, and maybe that was what made her a bit... shier later, you know? Sometimes I think she doesn't know how not to apologize for everything. Like it's her fault somehow.”

JD looked at her. “Does her dad knock her around?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “Just... those jerks... they make you feel it's your fault, so maybe she does because he wanted her to believe that. Or something. I don't know. It's dumb. What do I know?”

Veronica had a terrible feeling it was a lot more than he was saying. She didn't know what to do or say to that, and she wanted to comfort him, but she wasn't sure she could. She didn't know that there was anything she could do.

So she tried changing the subject. “I have a stupid question for you.”

“My mom likes to say there's no such thing as stupid questions.”

“You inherit five million dollars the same day aliens land on the earth and say they're gonna blow it up in two days.. What d'you do?”

“That's the stupidest question I've ever heard,” he told her, and she laughed, because it was. “Why ask that, of anything you could ask?”

She shrugged. “It was the lunchtime poll, or it will be, if Heather Chandler has her way. I just... I guess I wanted to see your reaction for a change. And it was worth it.”

“Hmm,” he said, taking hold of the chain for her swing. “Maybe you should pay for that.”

“Well, I almost asked what you would do if you could do anything or go anywhere, but somehow that seemed just as bad.”

“It is.”

“So... what would you do?”

He laughed. “Um... I don't know. I guess I used to have this dream we'd settle some place. I wasn't too big on school, so that wouldn't be for me, but I'd have time to do stuff I really wanted to. I've got some practice fixing cars—ours never run good for long—so I'd work on them, maybe—and I'd take up an instrument or something. I kind of wanted to learn the saxophone, of all things.”

“The sax?”

He shrugged. “Scott—this guy my mom knew—he found out she liked jazz, and he took us halfway across the state to see a show live. She was so happy... like I don't think I've ever seen her since... Which was hilarious because Scott and I hated the music, but he did it for her and I was there, and she said it was the best night she'd ever had.”

“That's a good story,” Veronica said, wondering whatever happened with that guy, but not sure she dared ask. “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, feeling a bit bold again. “Would you run if I tried to kiss you again?”

He smiled, leaning over to kiss her first.

* * *

“Remember, you tell that boy if he wants a job, he's got one,” Mac said. “And yes, he will only work when he's not in school. Like you said. It'll be good for him.”

Tricia wished she believed that. While she knew it could help if Jason was working, too, he was not going to be happy washing dishes or clearing tables. She doubted that was a good fit for him, and he'd be sure to say something wrong to anyone who asked him something stupid or blamed him for poor service.

“I'll tell him,” Tricia said, giving her boss another wave. She walked out to the car and unlocked the door, opening it and getting behind the wheel.

She had a lot on her mind, worried again about her son. She hadn't really seen anything in Veronica that she disliked, but if those were her friends, she did object to them. She didn't think they were good for either teen.

She'd have to deal with that later, though, and she really hoped her son had gone back to class or at least was back at the hotel and safe now.

She didn't know where Veronica or her parents lived, and Tricia would have to fix that. She was not going to assume he'd be fine wherever he was with that girl, even if her parents were probably decent people.

She couldn't afford not to know where Jason was.

She put her key in the ignition, turning it over. The car didn't so much as splutter. She stopped, listening to the lack of the door chime and swore, leaning her head on the wheel. The battery must be dead. She wouldn't have had the lights on when she took Jason to school, so it didn't make much sense, so it wasn't that, at least, not her stupidity, but she'd sworn it was fine.

She got out to take a look under the hood, peering under to check the connections.

Wait. What the hell? Someone had disconnected the battery.

Why would anyone do that?

She had her answer a second before it all went dark.


	5. As All the Facts Came In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are learned and other discoveries made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't sleep again. Stupid cough.
> 
> The first scene is where JD's mom finds out what Bud's been doing to him, and it's not graphic, but content wise is unpleasnt, so...

* * *

_  
Tricia's worries grew with the latest move. After the court ruling came, Bud finishes his job so fast she's not ready for the news that they're leaving, and Jason looks completely betrayed when she has no choice but to let them be dragged along with Bud to the next town._

_If she hadn't been dealing with a pretty debilitating bout of morning sickness, she didn't think it would have been that way, but she could hardly stay on her feet and had no strength to fight him with, all the while cursing herself for being so stupid as to think maybe he'd settle if they had another baby or that his comment that night meant he still cared for her._

_Things are the same now as they were before, perhaps worse. Jason seems more depressed, barely speaking to anyone, and even though she's pressed him over and over again, he insists Bud hasn't hit him. Still, there's something so off about him, she can't believe it, and with her body finally cooperating, she's going to do something about it._

_She tells Bud she's working, and he looks pleased, enough to unsettle her, but she smiles and leaves just like she would if she was going for real. She waits an hour, since she wants him thinking she's not coming home for the rest of a typical shift. He'll think he can do as he pleases, and that's what she needs—to catch Bud in the act._

_She drives around to the alley behind the house, walking in through the gate and then the back door, making sure to stay quiet. She cleaned her path earlier, so she knows it's safe enough, though she's still careful as she makes her way inside and down the hall._

_The television is off, and there's no one in the living room, which is a bit strange, since that's all Jason will tell her they do in the evenings. She shakes her head and moves off down the hall toward their rooms. Maybe she's been wrong about all of this. Bud isn't hurting their son, and Jason's not too scared to tell her._

_She hears him scream, and she runs the rest of the way to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway in horror. This is so much worse than she thought it was, and she almost can't believe it. How could Bud do that to their little boy?_

_Her heart breaks for Jason, and she rushes forward, attacking Bud's back, hitting him with both her hands as she screams at him._

_“How could you? He's just a little boy. Get off of him, you bastard.”_

_Bud whirls on her, knocking her back like what she did to him was nothing. She hit the floor, groaning, and he was on her an instant later, his hand closing around her throat._

_“He's mine. I'll do what I want with him.”_

_She tries to free herself, shaking her head. “No. You won't. You won't... hurt him... or... other baby. Get them... far away... from you.”_

_“You're not taking either of them away from me,” he snarls, slamming her head into the floor, and she wants to tell Jason she's sorry but it's already too late._

* * *

“I guess it is late,” Veronica said, and JD nodded. He liked being with her, no denying that, and if he could, he'd probably spend forever with her, as much as he knew he couldn't and even shouldn't. He knew if his father knew about her, not only would he rip JD away from her, but he'd also hurt her because JD cared about her, like he'd hurt JD's mom when she tried to stop him.

He'd only gotten his father to stop when he said he'd do whatever he wanted, and he still hated himself for that moment, but his mom was alive, so it was almost okay. He'd saved her, and it only cost something his dad was going to take from him anyway.

He knew he'd do the same for Veronica now, and that terrified him, but he'd do anything he could to protect her from the monster that was his father.

“It's getting dark,” he said, looking up at the sky. He didn't like walking around in the dark. It was harder to see if anyone was in the cars parked along the side of the road, and he'd been grabbed a few times because he missed that. He checked his watch. “Mom should be getting off soon, and she'll expect me to be back at the hotel.”

“I could go there with you.”

He snorted. That was a bad idea for more than one reason. “You shouldn't. Mom might not care that we're... kissing, but our room is basically just a place to sleep, so you know... That's really not going to go over well.”

Veronica nodded, looking as reluctant as he was to go. He didn't want to be alone, didn't want to be stuck waiting around in the room alone if his mom ended up staying late, but he knew it was better if he was caught alone than if Veronica was with him, and as much as his mom had tried to be nice about it, he really didn't think she wanted him involved with a girl at all.

Mostly because they would probably run, but also because of the past, because of his dad.

He hated that man. Bud had ruined everything, ruined him.

JD took Veronica's hand, holding it as he put his other hand on her cheek, drawing her close enough to kiss. He ended up letting go of her hand, needing to hold on to her with both of his, not sure he could let her go or why she'd let him do this—he hated when his father would force a kiss on him, shoving his tongue inside and making him gag while he laughed about it—but she seemed to like it, her hands on him like she wanted to be closer, wanted more.

Why was this okay with her? He hated it with his dad, and it was still awkward sometimes when his mom gave him one of those mother-son pecks on the cheek, but he could kiss Veronica forever, and it confused the hell out of him.

He pulled back, needing to breathe again. He let his head rest against hers as they both took in air. “You should go. I don't want anything to happen to you.”

“Yeah,” she said, and he took a step back only to have her grab his coat.

“You're not going to up and leave town on me, are you? Would your mom do that because... because of me? You'd tell me if you had to go, right?”

He winced. He knew if they had to run, he wouldn't be able to get word to her. He wouldn't even be able to contact her later. It didn't work that way.

“Yeah,” he lied, giving her another kiss so she wouldn't look at him and see it in his face. “I'll find you in the morning, okay? Probably at school because Mom's still delusional, but you know... at least I know where to find you, right?”

She nodded. “Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” he said, and turned to walk away from her. He knew it wasn't guaranteed, and he couldn't say that it would actually happen, but he'd try, for her. For himself, maybe. He didn't know anymore.

He willed himself not to look back, heading for the motel and another long night, this one without any cigarettes.

* * *

Veronica ran her fingers over her lips, still feeling JD's last kiss even though she'd been home for a while now since they parted ways. She hadn't wanted to go, but he insisted, and she knew it made sense, but she couldn't help thinking she might not see him again. He might not be there in the morning, and that scared her. What she felt for him scared her, confusing her.

She hadn't ever expected to feel something this intense for anyone, and he was still mostly a stranger to her, as much as they'd talked through the afternoon and into the evening. She didn't understand it, but she knew things were different, that she was. 

She knew that didn't sound right, but she'd found something in herself when she met him, even if it had gone away again, too. She'd ignored the Heathers, hadn't cared about social standing, and she'd left without Heather's permission. She'd even told off Ram Sweeney, and while she'd had all sorts of thoughts like it before, she'd very rarely actually said them out loud, and if she did, almost never where he could hear her.

She'd been bold. She liked being bold. Even her transition into the Heathers hadn't made her all that brave—she still had to fear Heather Chandler, after all.

She sighed, reaching for the phone book again. She'd call the motel, see if she could get JD's room, and maybe talk to him again. They could do that even if his mom was back from work, right?

She was still flipping through to the yellow pages when her phone rang, and she almost jumped. She took a deep breath. Maybe he'd had the same thought?

She picked up, hoping it was him. “Hello?”

“Veronica,” Chandler said, and she flinched. “Where were you today? You totally checked out after creepo kissed you.”

“He wasn't a creep, Heather,” Veronica said with a sigh, laying back on the bed. “He's just new, that's all.”

“And every new guy kisses some random girl on his first day at school?” Chandler scoffed. “This guy's psycho rating is probably off the charts. You need to stay away from him. Please tell me you weren't with him all day.”

“I won't,” Veronica said, though she had been, and she'd loved it. They'd talked about other states and her life before the Heathers and so many things she thought neither of them should have a voice or maybe there was nothing left to know about the other, but that wasn't true. They'd had such a good time learning about each other.

“So tomorrow. Shopping. We are leaving during biology and getting you some real blue outfits this time. Your closet is a disgrace, and you have to have something new for Saturday anyway.”

Veronica frowned. “Saturday? We don't have any plans for Saturday. You had that family thing, remember?”

“If you think I am attending a lame party hosted by my family without my friends, you must have eaten a brain tumor for breakfast,” Chandler told her. “I expect all of you to be there. I've already approved Heather's dress, but Heather had to try and 'spice' things up with hers, so she's going to get something tomorrow, too. Why she has such a problem with green, I don't know. Heather's dress is perfect, though.”

Veronica rubbed her head. She wished Chandler did what the rest of the world did and used their last names to tell them apart. She always got a headache trying to figure out which Heather she meant unless she used her damned color coating.

“How long is this party supposed to go on?” Veronica asked instead, hoping to get an idea how much of her day she was losing to this thing. She wanted it open to spend more time with JD if he was still here, and even if he wasn't, she didn't want to be around Heather's family all day. No one would want that. Even the other Heathers' presence wouldn't make it bearable.

“All day or something stupid like that.”

“What?”

Chandler sighed. “It's some big family reunion thing they haven't done in years. They're dragging everyone here from all over the country, even Bumfuck, Arkansas or whatever. It's ridiculous, but the parents say I have to go.”

Veronica wanted to scream. “Heather, if it's a big family thing, they're not going to want us there.”

“I already talked to my parents about it. They said I could bring all of you, and I'm bringing all of you. Do you really have a problem with that, Veronica?” Chandler asked. “Because if you do, I think we'll have to reconsider where you sit at lunch, for a start.”

Veronica winced. She tried to tell herself that wasn't that bad. She could survive Chandler exiling her from their table at the cafeteria. “Heather, I really don't feel right about going. It's not—”

“I bet if I told you that you could bring your creep boyfriend with you, you'd say yes.”

“Would you?” Veronica asked before she could stop herself. She didn't actually want to go, even if she could bring JD, but she was surprised that Chandler would let such a thing happen. JD was so beneath her socially she didn't want Veronica to have anything to do with him at school, but she could invite him to her family reunion?

“God, Veronica, you are such a pillowcase,” Chandler muttered. “Shopping tomorrow. Party Saturday. I need to call David.”

She hung up, and Veronica sighed, once again hating her life.

* * *

JD paced the hotel room again in agitation. His mother was late.

Hours late. She should have been here by now. He didn't like this. Her being late was never good. She always gave him specific times when she'd be back, and she always kept to them. She demanded the same thing of him, and he did it. They both understood it was the only way to know if either of them had been taken or hurt, as Bud wasn't going to give them any warning.

They had some small plans for what happened if either one of them was taken without the other, but it always seemed to end the same way, even if his mom managed to find him again and get him out of wherever his father had tried to keep him.

One of these days, he'd realize that his own habit of moving around the country was a bad thing, that he could be found easier than they could, and his ex-wife could always find him again. JD liked knowing that Bud was that stupid—or that smug—to think she wouldn't know he'd have his son as close to him as possible.

She'd gotten him out every time. It sometimes took longer, but she always came for him.

She hadn't come back to the hotel yet.

He reached for the phone and picked it up, dialing the number for the diner. He'd called earlier to check and see if his mom had gotten another shift, and she hadn't.

She was gone.

He knew it. He didn't want to believe it. They'd only been here a few days, and it was too soon. They were far enough away from the last town, and they'd been careful, switching cars and using the bus once. They stayed in motels where they could pay cash. They didn't use the same names, even on his school transcripts. He didn't understand.

How did his dad keep finding them?

He hit redial, calling the diner back again. Thunder boomed outside the room, and he grimaced, not fond of storms, but there were worse things. There always were.

“Mac's.”

“Mac, it's me again, Patti's son. I... I was wondering if her car was still in the lot.”

“Oh, kid. I was wondering if you was gonna call back again,” Mac said. “Julio just went out to put the trash out, and when he came back in, he said her car was still here. Hood was open and everything. Guess she must've had problems with it.”

“Yeah,” JD said, “but she'd never leave the hood open like that. We can't afford to fix it or have something stolen... I mean, if she was going to walk back in and ask for help, maybe...”

He winced, hating himself for saying all that, but he was starting to panic now, since there was only one reason to his mind why his mom would have left the car behind—and it wasn't by choice.

“You said she was gone,” JD said, feeling stupid, knowing he sounded a lot younger than he was right now. “She's still gone, right?”

“Yeah, she's not here. She didn't make it to you, then?”

“No.”

“Sorry,” Mac said, and JD almost thought he meant that. “We'll keep an eye out for her. You want me to drive around and take a look for her? Maybe she went walking to the auto parts store or something.”

JD didn't figure there was any point. “Only if you want to, Mac. I gotta go.”

He hung up and went to the window, taking a look out at the storm. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

Veronica listened to the rain falling outside her window, staring at the ceiling. She had to figure out what she was going to do about Heather Chandler. If she was strong, she'd accept what was coming and allow them to drop her. The backlash would be ugly, and she didn't even know if Betty would take her back as a friend after the way she'd treated her, but if she kept her head down, she could survive the year. There were worse things than being a social leper.

Losing JD would be one of them, and she still didn't know how she'd cope if he was gone tomorrow. She didn't want to think about it. That hurt too much, far more than it should for how little time she'd known him.

She heard something scrape, and she sat up, staring over at her window in disbelief. JD was there, and he'd just opened it, and all she could do was stare.

“Dreadful etiquette, I know,” he said, inviting himself into the room, pulling himself through the window and almost falling on the floor. She hoped her parents didn't hear that thump. “I'm dripping on your floor.”

“I don't care about that, but you... you're soaked,” she said, rushing over to him. How long had he been out in the dark and rain? That was awful, and why would he do that? She didn't think it was just to see her, as flattering as that might be.

Maybe he'd fought with his mom? Veronica could see that, since there was tension there over her.

“Here,” she said, tugging on his sleeve and trying to get him out of the sopping trench coat. She slid it slowly off his arm, having to fight it for every inch. She got it off and circled around to get the other side off. She took it to her closet and grabbed a hanger, putting it on it and hanging it over the door so it could dry.

She turned back to see him standing there shuddering. His shirt clung to him, the fabric bunching up all around him. His hair was plastered to his face, making him look miserable. “We should probably do something about the rest of that. You're soaked through.”

She grabbed one of her big nightshirts from the drawer, just a plain white one that wasn't the least bit girly, and carried it over to her bed, leaving it there before going back to him. “Okay, I guess you need help with that, too.”

He just watched her as she tugged the t-shirt off, pulling it up over his head. He kept shaking, and she winced, not just to see him so cold and lost but at the scars she could see on his chest.

“I should get you a towel,” she said. “Stay there.”

She ran over to her desk, where she'd left the one she used that morning on her hair. Her mom would be pissed if she knew, but Veronica had been running late for her inspection and had to hurry. She didn't care now. All that mattered was getting him warm again.

She brought the towel to him, holding it out, but he made no move to take it, so she started drying him off instead. He let her as she did his back and down along his chest, and then he caught her hands and kissed her.

She stood there at first, shocked, not sure when he'd come out of whatever he'd been in when he came in to do that, but then she realized she was being stupid because he was kissing her and she liked that. She was even standing there with him with his chest bare, and she could _touch_ him. She did. She put her hands on his chest, towel falling to the floor, and he felt good under her hands, if a little clammy from the cold.

This could warm him, right? That was good.

She was definitely warm herself, and she only got warmer when his hand snaked up under her blouse, touching her stomach.

She tugged him by the belt of his pants over to the bed, not stopping kissing him for a second. She bumped the side of the bed and fell onto it, bringing him down with her. This was crazy. She didn't do this. She'd put off all the jerks that Heather had tried to fix her up with, and while she was curious, she hadn't been ready for it before, and she shouldn't be now. She barely knew JD, and while she was undeniably attracted to him, he could be leaving tomorrow.

Oh, God. Was that why he was here?

She was about to stop him so she could ask him if that's what this was when he pulled away, turning his back to her, catching the bed post and panting.

“Oh, fuck. I can't do this.”

She figured it was better to wait anyway, since they'd probably regret jumping right to bed like this, but it was still a bit disconcerting and upsetting. “Okay.”

“I thought I could,” he said, starting to pace the room. “I thought... I thought if I came here, if I did this... did it because I wanted to and not because it was forced... thought it would be easier to do what I have to do, but I can't...”

She winced. “You _are_ leaving tomorrow.”

“I have to. I have to give him what he wants or he'll hurt her. I mean, he has. He already did. He always does when he gets hold of her, but if I go... if I give him what he wants, he'll stop. He won't kill her. I have to go to him...”

Veronica was confused again. “Have to go to who? Hurt who—is this about your mom?”

He nodded, miserable. He ran a hand through his wet hair and started turning in circles again. “I don't know—I have to go, but I don't know how to make myself do it this time. I'd rather die than let him do that to me again... but it's not me. It's her. He'll kill her if I don't.”

Veronica bit her lip, wanting to be wrong about this. “You mean your dad. He has your mom.”

“Yes.”

“And you have to go to him and... trade yourself for her?”

JD nodded. “It's my fault. He doesn't even want her. He's pissed at her, but he only wants me back... Just me.”

She knew nothing she could imagine covered how horrible that was for him. She wasn't going to pretend she could understand it. She rose, going over to stop him from pacing.

He stared at her, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding on tight. She knew they had to do something to get his mom back, but there was no way she was letting him give himself to that monster.

“Stay here,” she said. “Just... stay. We'll figure something out together. I promise.”

He trembled, but he didn't pull away, and that had to be enough for now.


	6. But I Can't Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica tries to plan a way to save JD, but he thinks there's only one thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to get myself kind of stuck, thinking that I must have rushed things with the plot, though to be honest, there was no plot beyond that, so I'm not sure what else could have happened.
> 
> Then I figured out a part of stuff that's behind the scenes as it were, and it fit, so I went with this. It'll still allow me to do some of the other stuff while I work up to things. I think that's okay, even if this seems a little odd...

* * *

_Tricia loses the baby._

_She's not surprised, not after what Bud did, but it still hurts, and not just because the life inside of her is gone. Bud hits her again, screams at her that it's all her fault the baby's gone and if she hadn't been so fucking nosy and stupid, it would still be alive._

_She hates herself for believing he's a bit right about it._

_She hates herself even more for being too weak to defend Jason, for being used against him over and over again. Bud tells him what he wants, and Jason always says no, but Bud tells him he'll hurt her, and Jason does every sick thing he's asked. He does it for her, to protect her, and it's not right. She should have been able to protect him._

_She didn't. She failed him._

_Tricia swears when she's strong enough, they're leaving, even if she has to kill Bud to get out of here. She won't let him do this to Jason again._

* * *

Her head ached when she opened her eyes, and this was so damned familiar she almost cried. She knew what this was, knew where she must be, and she hated herself for ending up here again. She should be stronger than this. She shouldn't be caught like this, trapped.

She knew what she was, what she'd always be.

Bait.

Bud didn't care about her, hadn't in a long time, but he knew Jason did, and he used that against his son whenever he could.

Oh, sure, he hurt her. He did it plenty. He hated her for coming between him and Jason, though she'd do it every single time, since he was a monster and no one deserved what he'd done to their boy. As hard as it was, losing her other baby, she was glad that child had been spared its father, who would have hurt it just as much as he hurt Jason.

“Where are you?” Tricia demanded. “Lurking somewhere in the shadows? You think you can scare me by hiding? It just proves you're a coward.”

She knew better than to goad him, but the truth was clear to her, dangerously so. If she wanted to save her son, she'd have to make it so that there was no reason for him to do what his father asked. True, if she died, she couldn't free him or get him away from that man, but the longer she was stuck here, the more likely it was that Jason would just give himself over to Bud for her.

She couldn't let him do that. Not again.

She had almost taken her own life rather than let that happen again, only stopped by the realization that Jason would go back to him anyway, without her to fight for him and keep them running.

She knew that she had to try, she had to do something, and she had to do it fast, before Jason went back to Bud. She was as good as dead if Bud got what he wanted, he'd told her that much last time, but they'd managed to keep ahead of him for the past two years, and she'd been hoping that they might actually get away from him for good if this kept up.

Instead, she'd never even realized she was being watched.

No, that wasn't true. She'd felt it when she talked to Jason outside the diner, but then... _why?_ Why not come after them then? Sure, it was daylight, but that didn't stop Bud. He had enough money he just threw it at cops and judges and laughed it all off, over and over again.

Even now, she was surprised that he'd allowed the divorce to go through. She'd expected him to fight that more, but he hadn't.

He wanted her to think he didn't care what she did, she supposed, except he did very much care that she tried to keep him from Jason. He was going to hurt her for this, for eluding him for two years.

She was under no real illusions about what was coming. She just knew she had to save her son somehow, but this time he'd taken her without Jason, and while she knew it was effective, why? Why come after her instead of the boy? Not that she wanted him to take Jason, God, no, but it made no sense that he'd take her without him.

He should have waited for her to drive back to the hotel, found out where Jason was, and take him from there. That made more sense.

Didn't it?

* * *

Veronica lay awake, watching JD shudder in his sleep next to her. He'd finally fallen asleep a little bit ago, giving into the stress after she'd managed to coax him back to the bed just to lie still. He kept insisting that he couldn't stay, had to go to his father right now, but she reminded him it was nighttime in the middle of a storm, and he didn't have a car.

She had a sick feeling those were the only reasons he'd listen to even if every part of her screamed that he couldn't do it, not even for his mother. No, she didn't want the other woman hurt, but that didn't make it right for JD to give himself to his dad, knowing what that man was going to do to him.

Her genius IQ was taxing itself now, determined to find some way out of this for him. She had to. She knew the obvious options—going to the police and telling her parents, and she would do that, even if JD protested, because she wasn't about to let him go without doing something.

She knew her parents weren't going to like it much—she was not only involved with a boy, but that same boy was in the kind of trouble no one in Sherwood would want to admit existed. Parents just didn't do that to their kids, not in this world, and she knew it would be hard to get anyone to believe her, but she didn't care.

She was not going to let JD go without some kind of fight, and she thought she was even a bit tempted to lock him up so he couldn't do it. She knew that wasn't right, but how was letting JD go to a pedophile any better?

She reached over to comb through his hair. She already knew she couldn't let him go when his leaving would have been normal—almost, running off in the middle of the night was not okay—but to do this? No. Hell, no.

She didn't know how she'd stop it, but she was going to. There had to be some other way of saving his mom. The police might find her or maybe a private detective. Anyone but JD. He couldn't go back to that monster.

“I'm going to find a way to keep you safe,” she promised him. “I don't know how yet, but I will.”

He didn't answer, not that she wanted him to, didn't want to wake him, even if she was afraid his dreams were awful right now. He needed the rest, and if he was awake, he'd try and leave to go off and trade himself for his mom.

She looked back toward her door. Did she dare leave him to go wake her parents and do something now? No, she didn't think so. If she did, they'd throw a fit about him being in the house and kick him out before she got a chance to explain—maybe even after she did. She knew they were very touchy about her dating, so sure it would mean the end of college and all of their plans for her.

She should call the police, then, but she didn't know enough about any of this for them to take her seriously—not even JD's mom's name, since all she had was the nickname JD said she hated. Would that even be enough?

She didn't think so.

She sighed, lying back and trying to think of more solutions as her own body gave into the fatigue and she slowly fell asleep next to JD.

* * *

JD's dream had him waking in a panic, and he bolted up, dislodging someone and almost falling out of bed. He didn't recognize the room, but he rarely did, and that didn't help. He couldn't hardly breathe. He was back. He hadn't remembered going back, but he must have. He had to have.

A hand touched his arm, and he jerked away from it, this time actually falling to the floor with a curse. He hated falling out of bed, but then he didn't do well when he ended up sleeping next to someone, even his mom when there was only one bed available in their crummy motels. Somehow, even if he went to sleep knowing his mom was next to him, sometime in the night it switched, and it was always his father when he dreamed and when he woke.

This time, it wasn't even his mother, but that changed nothing.

“JD?” Veronica asked, concern all through her voice. She climbed down to him. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I wasn't really awake... wasn't thinking when I touched you.”

He looked up at her. Her hair was sticking every direction, and her nightshirt was a wrinkled mess, riding up her hips and bunching in odd ways because of how she knelt next to him. She looked beautiful, best thing he'd ever seen, and he didn't understand it, but he was glad she was here.

“Can I... I want to hug you,” she said, twisting her lip. “Is that okay?”

He nodded, and she wrapped her arms around him, tight, not quite the way his mother did when he got like this, but it still felt good, soothing. He wanted her to go on holding him forever, but she couldn't. Even his mom couldn't.

Damn, how had he forgotten, even for a minute, about his mom? She'd been taken. He had to get her back. He had to leave. Now.

“I have to go.”

“No, not yet,” she said, and he frowned at her. “We haven't tried talking to my parents or the police yet, and that's just where we'd start.”

He shook his head. “That won't help. It never does.”

“Have you ever asked anyone who really cared about you for help?” Veronica asked, and he frowned, trying to remember. Yes, they'd talked to the police a lot, but it never seemed to do any good, and he knew his mom had tried to get the courts involved before, something about his father suing for custody or something, but the judge sided with him even after JD had to talk about the horrible things his dad did to him.

He didn't think anyone would ever help them, but even as he had the thought, his mind went back to Scott, the man who'd said he loved his mom and wanted to adopt him. Would Scott have helped? He didn't know. He wanted to think so, but maybe he hadn't, since when his mom found him after that, she was alone. No more Scott.

Only running.

“They won't help,” he repeated, and she sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Will you let me try, at least? Please? I can't... I can't lose you like this, JD. Please.”

He didn't know what else to do, but her plea had him nodding. He couldn't deny her the attempt, even if he knew she wouldn't get anywhere with it. He knew there was only one way to deal with this, and he had to do it as was expected.

She'd never let him do what he had to do, though, so he had to let her think she could do it, tell her parents or the police and save him. He knew it wouldn't do any good.

“I'm going to go talk to my parents,” she said. “Don't go anywhere.”

He gave her another nod, though he knew if his father told him where to go, he would go there. He had to. She left the room, stopping once to look back at him, and he forced some kind of smile for her before she went out.

He went over to the telephone, picking up the receiver and dialing a number he knew too well, as much as he hated it.

“Big Bud Dean Construction,” a perky female secretary answered. “How may I direct your call?”

“I want to talk to Bud Dean.”

“I'm afraid he's out of the office right now. I can take a message and—”

“Tell him his son is calling,” JD said, choking on his own words. He hated acknowledging his relationship to that man. He didn't want to be his son, didn't want to be connected to him at all. He hated Bud Dean. He hated the sick things that man had done to him and how he hurt his mother.

“Hold on,” she said, “I'll transfer you.”

He waited, and then his father's voice came over the line. “Jason?”

“Where is she?”

“Ah, Jason, it is you. I thought for sure this was some kind of prank. It's good to hear your voice. It's been so long since we've talked. I've been missing you.”

Sick bastard. JD tried not to gag. “Stop playing games. I know you have her. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Have her? I'm afraid I don't understand.”

“You have my mom. Don't deny it. I know it's you. No one else would take her.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I suppose we can do something about that, can't we, son?” Bud asked, and JD shuddered. “I'm going to give you an address. I want you to be there in three days.”

“Three days?” JD asked, confused. He didn't understand. His father always wanted him back right away. Why was he giving him three days? That didn't make sense. He had to have heard wrong. “What are you—why would you want to wait that long? You never—you always make me come as soon as you have her. You... You don't want to wait.”

“Of course I don't. It's been too long since that bitch allowed me to see you, but I've got too much here to leave behind, and I can't make it before then. Think of it as a bit of a reprieve, Jason. You have three days to come to me.”

Jason gagged, ready to puke. He took several breaths to calm himself. Like he would be any more able to go in three days. Waiting would only make it worse, dreading it, and he wasn't sure he could do it if he had to wait. And if he waited, what happened to his mom then?

“Only if you promise you won't hurt her. I won't... I won't come if you've hurt her. If she's dead... I'm never going back to you if you hurt her. Do you understand me?”

“You have my word she won't be harmed so long as you show up when you're supposed to. Now take down this address. I'll be looking forward to seeing you.”


	7. They've Often Lied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica tries to handle JD's crisis in a responsible way but gets little help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think that everyone's so corrupt they wouldn't help, though there's been enough that wouldn't help that leave JD and his mother biased. All it takes is one decent one, though, and they're out there, but the two of them keep missing them. And, well, unfortunately, that one belief is/was very common, so... yeah... unfortunately people did not do what they should have.
> 
> And... Bud is really creepy. That scene was... icky and he didn't even do much in it. Sorry.

* * *

_She thinks she's safe once they're at the police station. Jason's trembling in her arms as she fills out the report, but she keeps assuring him they'll be okay now. Once they know what Bud's done, they'll arrest him, and they'll keep him locked away. This is what she has to do, and she knows it. This way she'll make sure they stay safe for a long time._

_She won't fail Jason this time. This is for him, as hard as she knows it is for him with the men staring as he cries in her arms._

_She knows they'll have to take him to the doctor and have him looked over, and he'll hate it, but she's got to give the report and it'll be worth all of it once Bud is arrested._

_She looks up when he walks in, and she tries to shield Jason, who whimpers in her arms. She swallows and looks at the officer next to her. “You can arrest him now, can't you?”_

_“Ah, officers, thank you for taking care of my wife,” Bud said, coming over to them. “It's so good of you to humor her. I told you before she just hasn't been the same since she lost the baby. I didn't think it would go this far, but she's got the boy in on it—such a momma's boy, he'd do anything for her—but I'll take them home now.”_

_“What?” Tricia demanded, shaking her head as she tried to back away from him. “No. You can't. I won't go anywhere with you, and you are not touching Jason again.”_

_“Stop it, Patti. You know better than this. Lying to the police... so beneath you.”_

_“You're the liar,” she says, looking around in desperation, begging one of them, any of them to understand, but she'd forgotten where they were—this is a small town, a man's world, a backward place where women's lib never happened—she'd even heard jokes about how they shouldn't be allowed to vote._

_There's not a man here that will listen to her. She's just a hysterical female._

_That doesn't mean she doesn't try. “Please. You don't have to—don't let him do that to our son. Not again. He's just a boy. Please. You can't let him—he'll rape our son. You can't let him go free.”_

_“There's no such thing as that for boys, is there?” Bud asks, and no one disagrees with him. He takes her arm, and she knows no one will stop him from dragging her out._

_“You bastards,” she says as he drags her toward the door, wishing desperately she had somewhere, someone safe to send Jason to, but she doesn't. If her parents—but no, they're gone now—and she has no friends thanks to Bud always moving them around..._

_And it dawns on her then: the asshole planned this for years and she never even saw it._

_She played right into that sick fuck's hands, damned both herself and her son._

_And there's no way to make it right ever again._

* * *

“I need your help,” Veronica told her parents as soon as she came into the kitchen. They look up from coffee and newspapers and frown at her. “I mean... I have a friend that does. I... He's new at school, and it's because he's had to move around a lot. He and his mom have to run from his dad. The guy's abusive, and he keeps finding them. And yesterday his mom disappeared and—”

“Veronica, is this some kind of joke?” her father asked, still frowning.

“It is too early for these kinds of games, and you know your imagination is not amusing when you go all... perverse like this,” her mother said, reaching for the coffee pot to refill her cup. “Why can't you play less gruesome pranks on people?”

“That thing with Halloween? Seriously? You're still hung up on that?” Veronica asked in disbelief. She didn't know how that could even matter with what she'd tried to tell her parents just now, but apparently she was never going to live down making their house into a haunted home or the zombie disguise that had scared both of them so badly they'd wet their pants.

She'd thought it was hilarious, and Heather had gotten it on Poloroid, which just made it better.

Only now it was not helping any. She took a breath, trying to keep herself calm.

“This is not a joke. I met a new kid in school two days ago. He asked for tutoring help because he moves around so much. He didn't tell me why he had to keep changing schools until his dad took his mom. It's bad. This guy's a super creep, and he's holding JD's mom hostage unless JD gives himself to him, and it's not the first time it's happened. JD says the police won't do anything, but I'm still going to talk to them. I just wanted your help. Can't we... I don't know. Don't we know any lawyers who might—who could—there's got to be someone who can do something, isn't there?”

“If any of this is true, then it's a matter for the police,” her father said. “And I don't think there's much else that can be done. A lawyer's no good if she's been kidnapped.”

“The FBI?”

“I suppose if the police think it's necessary, though it seems unlikely.”

Her mother set down her coffee cup. “Have you considered the possibility that this boy is lying to you, Veronica?”

Veronica stared at her. “Why the fuck would he do that?”

“Language,” her mother said, horrified. “And you know very well why some boy would lie to you. It's a sympathy play. He wants to have sex with you.”

Veronica snorted, tempted to laugh at how incredibly stupid and wrong this was. This was not about sex—unless she counted JD's father wanting him back for that sick purpose—and when JD had tried, he couldn't do it, so they had nothing to worry about there.

“Have you listened to yourselves lately?” she asked instead. “How can you just sit there and say, 'oh, it's nothing' when I'm telling you a woman was kidnapped and an abusive sicko wants his son to trade himself for her?”

“Because you sound hysterical, dearest, and it's very hard to believe any of that happened around here,” her father said, giving her a pat on the head. “If it's true, let the police handle it. That's what they're here for. There's nothing we can do.”

“Except patronize bunny rabbits,” she muttered, cursing them under her breath as she ran back upstairs to find JD.

* * *

“This is pointless,” JD said, knowing that he wasn't going to talk Veronica out of it. She was determined to make them talk to the police, but he'd done this before. They'd told him to go tell his tall tales somewhere else, and none of them had helped him find his mom.

And it wasn't just once he'd had the police fail to help him. It was over and over again. It always happened. They ignored him because he was a kid or his dad had already convinced them he was a liar. Somehow they never seemed to think that it was Bud who lied.

Not that it was much better being believed.

_“You know boys don't get raped, right?” the cop said, shaking his head at him. “Guess you must be a little faggot, then, huh?”_

_He shook his head, wishing they'd listen to him, just once. He didn't want it. He never had. His father had forced it, and he made him promise not to tell anyone, and he would hurt his mom if he didn't, but that never meant he wanted it. He did it because he had to. He never liked it. It hurt, and he felt dirty and ashamed, but they didn't care. They thought he wanted it._

“No,” JD said, stopping in front of the building. “I'm not doing this again. No.”

Veronica reached over to take his hand. “You're not alone. I'm here. And I believe you, no matter what anyone else says.”

He turned toward her, putting both of his hands on her face. “I don't know how... why... I found you. I... I wish I hadn't, but I need you...”

She stepped up on her tip toes and kissed him, a gentle light thing on his forehead. “I'm not going anywhere, I promise, and we're going to do this together, okay?”

He nodded, feeling numb. He knew that he would go to his father in three days anyway, but he couldn't tell her that, so he'd come with her to the police station, pretending he hadn't already called his dad and arranged things.

Veronica opened the doors and led him inside, up to the desk. He stopped, unable to form words again as he remembered what had happened before.

“We need to report a missing person,” she said, looking at him with worry on her face.

“Who's missing?”

“His mom,” Veronica said. “She never came home from work last night.”

“That's not long enough. She needs to have been missing for forty-eight hours.”

“Can't you do anything now?” Veronica asked, frowning. “We know who took her—it's his dad. The guy's sick, and he's going to hurt her. Please. There has to be something you can do.”

“Not officially, though I suppose if he's here in town, we can stop by unofficially and talk to him, see if we can find out anything. What's your address, son?”

JD shuddered. “Don't call me that.”

Veronica put a hand on his arm. “This guy isn't here in town. They came here to get away from him, but he must have found them.”

The cop frowned. “Where is your dad, then?”

“Milwaukee.” 

Veronica looked over at him, and JD tried to pretend it wasn't because he'd called up that he knew that. They would try and keep track of where his dad was working to avoid him, not that they always could or it didn't have risks.

“That's way out of our jurisdiction, kid,” the sergeant said. “I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do right now. In forty-eight hours, if she hasn't shown up, then we can maybe do something about it, but until then... I'm sorry.”

Veronica sighed. She started to walk away and then stopped, turning back. “Do you know what lawyer would be good to talk to about a restraining order?”

“Um... Metz, maybe. He's got the office down on fifth. Specializes in family law.”

“Thank you,” she said, reaching for JD's hand and tugging him along with her.

* * *

Bud leaned back in his chair, a smug smile of satisfaction overtaking his face. He'd have his son again soon, have the little whore back where he belonged—in Bud's bed—and he couldn't wait. Well, he hadn't. Just thinking about getting hold of Jason had left him with a big problem that had to be dealt with before he could leave his office.

Still, there was a problem.

He shouldn't care—didn't care—his wife was useless to him after Jason got old enough to use properly, and though she could have given him more sons for his pleasure, she never had, so he could care less what happened to her.

Hell, if she died, it would be one less obstacle keeping him from Jason since he knew the boy wasn't smart enough to run on his own, couldn't stay free without his mom. CPS was ever so helpful in that regard, and with enough money, they were willing to ignore what Jason told them about their nightly escapades.

He wouldn't miss the woman at all, but that was it, there. The fly in this beautiful little ointment.

He didn't know where the hell she was. He didn't know where Jason was, either, so he'd given the boy a few days to reach his cabin, a small place he'd bought and fixed up for the two of them years ago, back when Patti ran off on him the first time.

He would put it to good use this time. Jason would never leave that place again. Bud would give up traveling the country for work, take his money and invest it, live off the interest, and spend his days in the best form of recreation he'd ever known.

Still, this could be a problem. If he didn't have Patti, he might not be able to convince Jason to take the final steps to turn himself over, and that was unacceptable. He was tired of them eluding him. Jason was his. He'd been created to please his father, and he didn't get to leave. He didn't know why that woman was too dumb to understand it, but the boy did, most of the time, until she got him away and tried to change his mind.

Bud would make sure Jason knew it, this time. He wasn't going to let him go.

He smiled as he walked to the door, calling out to his secretary. “Cancel my appointments for the next week. I'm taking a trip.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And call the phone company. I want to know where that call from my son came from.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now.”

* * *

“I'm sorry that didn't help as much as I hoped it would,” Veronica said, and JD just shrugged. He was so sure it would go like that, and he'd been proved basically right—she thought that cop would have helped them if he could have, but with JD's father so far away, it seemed like he was out of reach, and the other rule stopped them from doing much. “Maybe we can go by the diner later and see if we can find anything ourselves.”

“Maybe.”

She knew he was worried, and there was nothing else she could do to help him, not really. “Would you like to get your stuff from the hotel?”

He looked over at her with a frown. “What?”

She knew she looked a little red and stupid and foolish, but she thought she'd offer anyway. “I just thought... since your mom's missing... and you've got nowhere else... and this place isn't really safe... You should stay with me. Like you did last night. We can make up a bed on the floor for me or something if you don't want to share. I just think that you should be somewhere safe. Okay, and selfishly... I want you with me. I mean... if you want to be with me. I don't... I wouldn't force you to stay with me. I'm just... I'm worried and I'm messing this all up.”

He gave her a sad smile, touching her cheek. “You are the only person besides my mom that has ever given a damn about me.”

“That's so beyond wrong.”

He shrugged. “It's what it is. I suppose you're right about my stuff. I don't want to leave it there, and I actually can't afford to stay another night, so we should get everything out of here for now. I'm not sure what to do with my mom's stuff...”

“We'll keep it for her,” Veronica said. “We're going to get her back, JD. And not by trading you to him. We won't let him have you.”

He nodded, and she didn't think he believed her, not that she could blame him. So far they hadn't managed much of anything to stop this or help him. She kept her hand in his as they walked, still trying to find other solutions. She wasn't sure who else they could ask for help, who might be able to stop Bud if not the police.

They'd do something in forty-eight hours, but that would be too late. She knew it. If they couldn't find something fast, JD would give himself to his dad. She knew that, and she knew she had to stop it. She knew it was wrong, and something had to be set against it. She thought about the lawyer, but she doubted that would do much good.

There had to be something, though. Maybe a private detective. She'd considered that before. She could always see if that might do any good.

They reached the motel parking lot, and she grimaced to see it, thinking it the worst possible place JD could be right now. There was cheap and then there was by the hour, and she had to wonder if someone had the wrong idea about him and his mother if they had seen this was where they stayed.

“We shouldn't stay long,” she said, and he turned to her, looking vaguely amused.

“What, afraid I'm going to corrupt you or something?”

She snorted. She didn't think he could have forgotten that she was pretty damned willing the night before. “I was already corrupted, remember?”

She took out a cigarette for both of them as proof, and he stopped to light them up, taking a drag before nudging her toward his room. She let him lead the rest of the way, stopping at the door and digging in his pocket for the key.

He frowned, and she watched him check both pockets twice in confusion.

“Forget your key?”

“Um... maybe... I don't... last night was kind of a blur...”

She nodded. “I think the desk would be willing to open it for you, especially if you're checking out. Not that they'll be happy, but you can at least let them know and pay and stuff. You... can pay, right?”

“Yeah, I should be able to cover it out of my emergency fund,” he said, and she winced, but she followed him down to the office.

He opened the door, but stopped dead before stepping inside. She bumped into his back, not prepared for his sudden stop or the voice that came through the door.

“Jason?”


	8. I Knew You Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JD and Veronica might have help in their search.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated this path with myself for a bit. I was thinking it might be too convenient.
> 
> It probably is, but then... I'm not sure which other adult would help, so... it stays.

* * *

_  
Tricia keeps them on the move as soon as she gets them free again. She's not stupid enough to go to small town cops that will side with her husband, and first chance she gets, she finds a lawyer and divorces the bastard, refusing to have anything else to do with him._

_She wants full custody, but she knows she won't win that, so she doesn't let the court take Jason away from her. If the law's on his side, if they give Jason over to that monster, she can't get him back. At least as long as there's no formal agreement she can still hold onto him._

_She still runs._

_She tries to give Jason the things they didn't have before, and he seems happier when he's free of his father, and that almost makes up for everything that went so wrong when he was younger._

_Until Bud finds them again and she's powerless to stop him all over again._

* * *

“JD?” Veronica asked, touching his back gently, trying to reach him. She didn't know what else to do. He was still blocking her, so she couldn't see the man who'd spoken, and he seemed upset, and if this was his dad, she didn't know what they'd do, but she had to do something because he was not on his own now, and she wouldn't let anyone hurt him.

“It is you, isn't it?” the man asked. “I mean, you've changed—grown—and your hair is a lot darker than I remember, but even though it's been years, I swear it's you, Jason.”

“Don't,” JD croaked out, backing into her again. She winced, moving around so she can get a good look at the man coming out of the office, even stepping in front of him in her need to protect JD.

“Leave him alone. I don't know who you are, but you don't get to hurt him.”

The man in front of her frowned, the expression on his face one of complete disbelief, like he couldn't understand how she'd think he was capable of that. If it was an act, it was a good one. He almost had her fooled, except JD was still shaking, and she knew this couldn't be good.

“If you're his dad or you work for him, you can just go. He's not going with you,” Veronica insisted. “Just leave him alone.”

“Ronnie,” JD croaked out, pulling her back. “It's not... not him... just... wasn't expecting... he didn't... can't stop... damned panic...”

“Easy,” the man said, taking a step back from them, and Veronica noted that JD seemed to breathe a little better when he did. “I didn't mean to scare you. I was just surprised to see you and forgot... You remember that creek we went walking by? How we watched the water flow over the stones and how it was easier to breathe then, when you watched them? You would count the fish, too.”

JD managed a nod. “Yeah. They looked like snakes.”

“Scared the hell out of your mom. She hit me so hard I thought she'd leave a mark.”

“You're Scott,” Veronica said, suddenly sure of it. “The Scott that took them to the jazz concert and hated it but his mom liked it... That Scott.”

The man got a bit red, running a hand through his hair. “Um, yeah, I suppose that's me. Scott Chandler. I don't think we've met.”

“Veronica Sawyer.” She frowned. “Wait, Chandler? As in—here for the big reunion Chandler?”

That seemed to confuse him, and he frowned. JD was looking at her, too. “Um, yes, though I didn't remember any Sawyers in the clan. I wasn't even going to come, never fit in with this crowd, but they kept saying I need to go, get out, try and forget about the one who got away, move on... Damn, this is embarrassing.”

Veronica thought she could see why this guy might have appealed to JD's mom and why he'd even have liked and maybe trusted him before. “I'm not part of—one of my friends is Heather Chandler. She wanted me to come to the reunion with her even though it was a family thing.”

“Sounds like that side of the family,” Scott agreed. “I was just getting a room for the night—this was the only place with a vacancy—and I figured I'd drive home in the morning since it's no short trip. Never in the world thought I'd see you again, Jason.”

“JD,” Veronica corrected for him as he tensed up again. “He doesn't like the name Jason.”

Scott looked him over, his expression gentle. “I suppose you wouldn't, would you? You always used to tense up when someone said it, even your mom. Um... I don't suppose... she's not around, too, is she? I... I never got to say... well, never got to say or do a lot of things. All that time, not a word. Does she hate me?”

JD stared at him like that was an impossible concept, and Veronica frowned, confused. Exactly what had happened between the three of them?

She touched JD's arm. “You trust Scott?”

He swallowed, his eyes darting to the man and then back to her, looking helpless. “I don't know.”

She pulled him close, knowing he was at his breaking point again, like last night when he'd admitted what his father had done and collapsed in her arms, shaking until he fell asleep. She held him and watched the man across from them, hoping she wasn't about to make a big mistake.

“His mom is missing. We think his dad took her.”

* * *

Tricia groaned, trying to pull on her bonds again. She didn't understand this. Bud should have come in to gloat by now. He would have loved it, telling her all about how it was just a matter of time before Jason came to him willingly, how he'd chosen it, and who was she to keep that from him?

She hated those moments, the way Bud would twist those things around. He was manipulating his son into that, and it would never be right, none of it. Jason was too young to know what his father was doing when it started, and he'd thought he could trust that man, only he couldn't, but he was a loyal little boy, so sweet and not understanding at all that those secrets weren't ones to keep.

She hated knowing he might never have told her, that if she hadn't found out for herself she would have lived her son's entire life with a monster, allowing what he'd done to keep happening, all the while he poisoned their son's mind into thinking it was his fault and something he had to keep from her and the rest of the world. She would have had more children with Bud, and they'd all have suffered.

She knew this life wasn't much better, but she tried. She tried so hard to keep Jason free of Bud, even if it wasn't permanent. She'd like to get him out of the country, far away, but she'd never saved enough or had anyone to trust him with over there, and she couldn't abandon him any more than she could afford to get them both out of the country.

She tried to look around her again. Wherever she was, it was dark and unrelenting, nothing in sight, nothing she could use to figure out where she was.

She felt like she'd been here for days, though she knew that wasn't true. Time lost meaning in moments like this, so she couldn't be sure of anything.

Except... she knew Bud. He would have come and spoken to her by now. He liked letting her know he had that power over her. Sometimes he even threatened her with another pregnancy and all he'd do that child if he got one, and while most of the time it was all talk except a few touches, it terrified her and he knew it.

So he would be here, giving her that sick speech.

And he wasn't.

And Tricia didn't understand at all.

* * *

“Trish is missing?” Scott repeated, sounding completely gutted, which wasn't all that surprising if he hadn't lied about how he felt about JD's mom, but JD didn't know that he believed anyone or anything anymore.

Maybe Veronica. Maybe his mom, but even with her... Sometimes he thought she lied to him about things—he knew she did, she had her secrets like he did that kept them going through this shitty life on the run—but he also remembered the pain of every time her promise of never again got broken.

It wasn't her fault. Not really.

That didn't make it easier or better. It just... was.

“She didn't make it back from work last night,” Veronica answered for him, since JD was still not able to do much talking. “JD came to my house in the rain, he was a mess... I tried to tell my parents, but they didn't seem to believe me. The police won't do anything for forty-eight hours, and he's going to hurt her before then.”

Scott looked at JD. “Your dad?”

He managed a short nod.

“Christ, the hell didn't tell me? I would have—God, I would have done anything for her. I knew you both had been hurt, that wasn't hard to figure, but she never said he was still out there,” Scott said, biting off curses and mumbling under his breath as he tried to calm himself down. JD had only seen him like this once before, and it had been a little scary then, but he'd been a whole lot younger, too. “That's why you left? Why she just took off in the night without a word?”

“I guess,” JD said, not wanting to think about his dad finding him that time or any of it. He'd wanted to go back, as that was the nicest, longest time they'd been in one place, but it wasn't safe and they both knew it.

“Will you let me help?” Scott asked, and JD just stared at him. “I know it's been years, but I still care about your mom. The last thing I want is something happening to her, and I... I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't do anything I could to find her.”

JD swallowed, not sure what to think. Veronica gave his hand a squeeze.

“I think we could use any help we can get,” Veronica said. “We were going to the diner to see if there was anything there. Her car should still be there. It might tell us something.”

“I can drive,” Scott offered, and JD took a step backward. “Or... how about I let you have the keys? You ever get that license? I suppose not, at least not the farm one.”

“What?” Veronica asked, frowning.

“I taught him to drive tractors back home,” Scott explained. “He even got me to promise I'd give him driving lessons when he got older and older for him was every day after he got that one out of me.”

Veronica smiled at that, and JD almost wanted to, but the good times were almost as painful as the others were sometimes.

“I can drive,” Veronica said after the silence got awkward. “I have a license, just... no car.”

Scott nodded. “That's fine so long as you can handle a stick shift. The Cherokee's a bit finicky, but it'll get you where you need to go if you treat it right. And only if you're okay with this. You look like you're about to pass out on me again.”

JD grimaced, not sure what he could say. He knew they didn't have a lot of choice. None of the other adults were willing to do anything, and he would need a way to get to that address his father had given him.

Just thinking of going there made him sick all over again. He couldn't do this. He couldn't go back to that. He'd rather die.

He felt a hand on his face and almost panicked until he heard Veronica's voice and realized it was hers. He should have known—hers were soft and kind and soothing.

“We're going to do everything we can to find your mom, okay? Let's see if there's anything at the diner. We've got help now, and that's good.”

He nodded, and she led him toward the car.

* * *

“This it?”

Veronica nodded. “I don't know which car is theirs, though.”

She didn't want to disturb JD to ask him. Seeing Scott again had clearly stressed him out, and while it was clear he wanted to trust the man, he was struggling with it. Veronica had yet to see anything in Scott Chandler that made him seem like a bad guy, but she wasn't taking any chances with JD, either.

“Well, I'm no detective, but seeing as that's the only one in the lot with an out of state plate, I'd say it's a good bet it's the one,” Scott said, and Veronica nodded. She could see that. 

He looked back at JD in her lap and shook his head. “I can't believe she never told me. I filled in a few of the blanks myself, but she... if she'd only said something...”

“JD says no one ever helped them before, not the police or anything, and I stood there today and watched them tell him there was nothing they could do again... I'm not sure she thought it would be any different with you.”

“It was,” Scott insisted. “Or... I thought it was.”

“You really loved her, didn't you?”

He snorted, shaking his head at himself. “I fell good and hard for her. She was this small thing but she had such... courage. Fire. She'd fight anyone who said two words against her son or any of the other waitresses. She wouldn't let people slide on being jerks or bullies. She had a huge, amazing heart. I admired the hell out of her, even at the start.”

“I wish I knew why they didn't stay with you,” Veronica admitted, and he gave a short, rueful laugh.

“That makes two of us,” he said. “How long you known him for?”

“Three days.”

“Hmm,” Scott said, and she almost asked him about it, but he got out and shut the door behind him, jarring the old Jeep and rousing JD from his nap.

She grimaced. “It's okay. Scott just got out to look at your mom's car. You can stay here and rest.”

He grunted, curling up on himself. “Hate being so weak.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “I think you're a lot stronger than you think. I mean... with your mom gone and your dad demanding you give yourself to him and then most people refusing to help us... and then someone from the past showing up... it's a lot, and you had a rough night last night, too, so... you're allowed a bit of a break.”

“Come on, Veronica. I'm a pathetic mess and you know it.”

She bent down to kiss his head, saying nothing, and he sighed. She just kept combing through his hair and trying to keep him calm. She thought about asking him about his time with Scott, but she was afraid she'd set him off again.

“Someone disconnected the battery,” Scott said, leaning into the window. “The hood wasn't all the way closed, so I checked under it. Definitely disconnected. Shouldn't be any permanent damage, but it sure as hell wouldn't have started.”

“A trap?” JD asked, sitting up. “I don't... we just got here. How does he keep finding us so fast?”

“A private detective?” Veronica asked. She'd thought of hiring one to help them before they ran into Scott, but if JD's dad had hired one, he could have been looking for them or following them for a long time.

JD shivered. “He wouldn't just send one.”

“Damn it,” Scott swore. “How much money has your dad got?”

“A lot. Enough to make cops and judges do what he wanted,” JD said. “I don't know how much but I know him. He hired more than one of them if he hired any. He... he's obsessed. He won't let me go.”

Scott frowned, about to ask about that, but Veronica didn't want him to, since JD already felt guilty enough as it was.

“We should go talk to Mac,” Veronica said. “If there's a private detective here, maybe Mac or someone in the diner saw him. Maybe they have his name.”

“And maybe whoever the hell he is has your mom.”


	9. I Saw Life in You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to the diner adds a small twist to things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... I don't have an explanation for this. It's not pleasant. I tried to write a nice, fluffy one-shot when I was feeling stuck earlier. It didn't happen. This did.
> 
> *sigh* There is something very, very wrong with me.

* * *

_“Mine,” his father says when he has him again. “You're mine. You know that, don't you, Jason? You know she's lying to you about taking you away. You can't get away from me. Not now. Not ever. You're mine. You'll always be mine.”_

_He turns away, not wanting to listen, but his father pulls him back and makes him look at him. “Your mother fills your head with these ideas, tries to tell you that you don't belong here, that you don't have to stay with me, but think about it... didn't you beg me for this when you were younger?”_

_“No. I thought—you tricked me—I didn't—”_

_“And if she knew that you asked for it, do you think she'd fight so hard to make you leave? Of course not. You have to stop lying to her. You like it here. You always have, since before you can remember. I know that. I know what you are and what you really want. This is what you want, what you were made for, and you shouldn't run from it.”_

_“Please, let me go.”_

_“No one else will want you like I do,” his father insists. “I won't ever let you go, but your mother... she's not like me. She'll leave you behind first chance she gets.”_

_“No.”_

_“You'll always have my love,” Bud says, and he shudders, trying to shut out the voice that keeps telling him he wants this. He doesn't. He swears he doesn't. And he knows she'll find him. She'll come for him._

_Won't she?_

* * *

Veronica hadn't even thought about her friends being part of the lunch crowd until she was pulling on the door to Mac's diner, and by then it was too late. She couldn't really back out now, this was their only lead on JD's mom, and she wasn't going to explain that to Scott or let JD down because she was a little coward when it came to Heather Chandler.

She could not afford to be a coward, not when JD had gone through so much worse than what Heather could do to her and needed Veronica's help.

She reached back, taking his hand as they walked up to the counter. The diner was full, the lunch rush going strong, but that didn't stop the other waitress from giving them a disgusted look or the cook from noticing them.

“Ah, there you are, boyo,” Mac said, coming out of the kitchen. “Been worried about you. You heard anything from your mom? She never came in this morning. Not like her. Not like her at all.”

“I think she's gone,” JD said, and Veronica thought he was going to break with those words.

“No, not Patti. She'd never abandon you like that,” Mac said. “You should hear her talk. Everything is about her boy. She's so proud of you. You're her world. Has to be a mistake.”

“We actually think she may have been taken,” Veronica told him, and he looked past JD to stare at her. “Um... either by JD's dad or someone working for him. He's... not a nice man.”

“Where this man? You let me at him,” Mac said. He looked over at Scott, narrowing his eyes.

“Scott's a friend,” Veronica said. “He's helping us look for... Patti. We actually came here to ask you about her. I'd forgotten it was lunch rush, though.”

Mac snorted. “What is food when a good woman is missing? What can I do to help? I'm not kidding. You tell me where this man is, I have a talk with him myself. With my fists.”

“I think you're not the only one who'd like to do that,” Scott told him, “but there's a chance it isn't even Bud who has her. We were wondering if anyone had been in to ask about her or anyone like her before, maybe even before she started working here.”

Mac frowned. “What?”

JD swallowed. “I... We... My dad's been hunting us for a long time... years... He... he always finds us... but... he was at his—he's not—he must have hired someone...”

Veronica could see he was getting worked up again, and she didn't know what to do about it, but then he took hold of her and buried his face in her shoulder. She sighed, knowing it shouldn't feel this good when he was as upset as he was. She gave him a quick kiss, trying to tell him it would be okay.

“He may have hired several detectives to look for Trish and JD,” Scott said. “It would seem he's got the money for it as well as the obsession. You've got a nice place here, but it's not too unlike where she was working when I knew her, and if that's been her pattern—which fits, she was a good waitress, made good tips, and that would be easy cash if she had to run again—he could have figured that out and sent jerks out to look for places like this. They'd ask around, leave cards, and if they showed up later, someone could call.”

Mac shook his head. “No. Not here. I'd have run them out.”

Veronica saw the other waitress move toward the back. “Wait. You. You were the one that didn't want to wait on us. And you—JD insulted you—you didn't like his mom, did you? Mac did, so you probably thought she was getting special favors and—could you have done it?”

“How much money did he offer?”

Mac whirled on the waitress. “You better not have done it, Leonore. Your husbands, they don't love you, that's too bad. They weren't worth spit, and you know it. If you got Patti hurt because you were jealous, then so help me—”

“We just need to know who you told,” Veronica said. “We have to know where to find him.”

“Her,” Leonore said. “The detective was a woman.”

* * *

_“You have something to prove about working in a man's field?”_

_She snorted. “Maybe that I'm more heartless than they are. I'm in this for the money, nothing else. Now if you have the goods, we don't have a problem, but if you stiff me, we have a problem.”_

_Bud smiled, thinking he liked this woman, as much as he liked any of them. He used to think he liked them a lot more before Jason came into his life. He hadn't really looked at one since. None of them compared to his son._

_“I've got money,” Bud told her. “Twenty-five hundred retainer. I want my son found and brought back to me. Whatever it takes.”_

_“Seems reasonable, but why me? Why not any of the others in the book?”_

_Bud gave her a wide smile. “Oh, don't be stupid. I hired them, too. There's nothing I won't pay to get him back where he belongs.”_

_“Why not post a reward for his safe return? That would get people all over the country begging to help you in any way they can.”_

_Bud wondered if she was as heartless as she claimed. “Bitch of an ex-wife has a sob story to tell them. I hit her, I beat on the kid... She took him for his own safety and hers.”_

_“Any of it true?”_

_“We fought. I told you. She keeps me from my son.”_

_She leaned across her desk. “Don't try and fuck with me here. Is he your favorite little punching bag or your best little whore? Why do you really want him back?”_

_“Because he's mine, and she had no right to take him. If she wasn't filling his head with lies, he'd know he doesn't want to be with her.”_

_“You didn't answer my question.”_

_“I never hit him,” Bud said. It was a point of pride with him. He'd never actually hit Jason to get what he wanted from him. He'd gotten the boy to do what he wanted basically from the beginning, and it had been their secret until someone got nosy and interrupted it, but he never had to hit Jason to get him to submit._

_Threats worked well, as did guilt, and Jason had been so willing to please in the beginning, so afraid of disappointing him... All that work lost with his ex convincing the boy it was wrong and he didn't have to—that made every time after she ran with him difficult, but if he got the boy back for long enough, he broke again and did what he was supposed to._

_“All right,” the woman said, leaning back in her chair. “So assume I'm taking this case. What happens if I find the ex-wife but the kid's not with her?”_

_“He won't be far. He's even stupid enough to think I'll hurt his mother if he doesn't come for her.”_

_“Would you?”_

_“I don't care what happens to her,” Bud said. “I just want the boy. He's all that matters. My son. My heir. Mine.”_

_“And you enjoy it when he comes back to you willingly, don't you?”_

_“It's where he belongs.”_

_“I guess what I'm asking is... if he goes back to you, no muss no fuss... just willing and as you want him... how much is that worth to you?”_

_Bud smiled thinly. “Exactly how much do you think you're going to get from me? Because I can assure you, it's not as much as you think.”_

_“He's worth it to you.”_

_Jason was worth every cent, and Bud was going to spend the rest of his life enjoying his best creation as soon as he got him back. He had plans for him and his son, a perfect way to spend the rest of his good years and then some._

_“You'll get your finder's fee. Don't think you can extort more from me for him. Anyone that gets in the way of me and that boy will pay the price,” Bud warned her. “You find them, you tell me, I'll pay you. That's how this works.”_

_“Then I think we have a deal, Mr. Dean.”_

* * *

“I still can't believe she called the detective,” Veronica said, and JD gave her a look. He believed it. He could believe just about anything when it came to people siding with his dad and handing him back over to the bastard.

“It's not like the woman told her the truth,” Scott said from the driver's seat. “She told her what she thought would get her to call. Her resentment of Trish did the rest. That Mac guy... he...”

“He likes Mom. You can say it,” JD muttered, reaching over to tap the window. He didn't want to be in the car any longer, even if it hadn't been that long to begin with. He didn't know that they knew anything now that actually helped. So what if the lady called a detective? It wasn't like that was so surprising or changed much because they still didn't know where his mom was. “Maybe. I was teasing her about it.”

“Mac's just a nice guy,” Veronica said. “It might not be any more than that, but he's pretty good to all his employees and his customers, so it's not like he wouldn't care about your mom. And everyone agrees she's a good worker.”

“Thought for a bit he was going to hug me,” JD said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Why do people even do that?”

“Hug?” Veronica asked, frowning at him. “Um... a lot of reasons, and even you hug on occasion and it feels nice when you do so I didn't think you disliked it and—why are you smiling at me like that?”

“You're rambling. And blushing. You're so cute when you do that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I want to be mad at you for that.”

“Ah, but you like me.”

She nodded, snuggling close to him. “I think I could love you.”

He tensed, his mouth going dry on him. Oh, sure he'd kind of had similar thoughts, and had he not been such a fucked up mess he probably would have slept with her—in more than the sense of sharing her bed—last night, but he was a mess and it hadn't happened.

“It's okay,” she whispered. “I'm not expecting you to say it or anything. I only said I could. I didn't say I did. No pressure.”

He leaned down to kiss the top of her head and closed his eyes. If he could love, if he wasn't so screwed up by this, he probably would love her. He didn't know what he'd do without her. And he was going to have to leave her.

He had to meet his father, turn himself over for his mother.

The longer he stayed with Veronica, the harder it was to do, and he had to go before he lost the will to go at all. He hated the thought of it, and even though she hadn't left him when she found out what his father had done, she wouldn't forgive him for going back.

She'd hate him, think he was as disgusting as all the others did that refused to help him, that said he had to want it because he was a boy and boys didn't get raped unless they wanted it.

He shuddered, and she held onto him, and he wanted to believe he could deserve her, but he didn't, and he knew it. He never would.

The car stopped, startling him, and he jumped, reaching for the door handle in a panic. He fumbled with it, but Veronica put her hand on his, and he forced himself to calm down again.

“This it?” Scott asked, turning around to face them.

Veronica leaned over to the window, brushing JD and making him think of things that had his body tensing up for other reasons. Wow. She felt good—and was she not wearing a bra and how had he missed that before?

“That's my house,” Veronica said, sitting back with a frown. “Why are we here? I thought we were going to talk to the detective.”

Scott grimaced. “We will. That is... I will. I don't think we should take JD anywhere near this woman for his own safety. I'll go see what I can find out from her, and you two can stay here where it's safe.”

“Hey, I am not—”

“She's my mom—”

“JD, please. If your mom is being used as bait to get you to go to her, then the last thing we want to do is give her what she wants. I will go see what I can find out and maybe persuade her to give me your mom. Maybe I can match his price or make her think I can. I don't want her to get you.”

“I don't want to sit around and wait,” JD said. “She's my mom, not your wife. Not your girlfriend. She's not even—”

“I still care about her, and I know you probably don't believe it or want it, but I would have raised you as my own,” Scott said. “Please. Stay safe. You know that's what she'd want.”

“It's definitely what I want,” Veronica said, taking his hand and looking at him. “I don't want to lose you, JD. Let Scott do this, and we'll decide what we do next after he's talked to her.”

JD sighed, but he knew he couldn't fight both of them.

And soon enough, he'd have to leave anyway, had to go meet his dad. It didn't make any difference if the detective had her. She was still suffering because of him, and he had to make it stop.


	10. Again I'll Chase after the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott goes to confront the detective and things get complicated. Veronica tries to distract JD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was a bit hard at first to get into Scott's head, and he was the only one who could really handle that part at first and then he had a story to tell that was... again, tragic, and I was just like, why? And I almost tried to cut it and couldn't, and so it is what it is.
> 
> And someone else ended up being a real jerk, too, though I'm not as surprised by that since that was kind of clear before.

* * *

_His mom is drunk. He can tell. The bottles are all over the floor, and she's staring at the ugly carpet like it's fascinating. He has seen her like this before. It bothers him, but not like when his dad drank. His dad was worse when he was drunk. He didn't even pretend to care what he was doing, just took and hurt and laughed at him._

_He lifts up the bottle and almost wishes it wasn't empty. Sometimes his father would give him some, and he'd feel less pain, wouldn't be able to think, and it was almost nicer than when he was awake for all of it._

_“Why didn't you tell me?” she asks, looking up at him with misery all over her face. “I thought... I knew you weren't happy... but you kept saying it was fine...”_

_“Mom,” he says, feeling sick. Why'd she have to go and ask that? He doesn't want to answer it._

_“Did you think... I wouldn't listen? Wouldn't believe you?” She's got tears in her eyes. “Did I make it too hard to come to me? I thought... I thought I gave you every chance to... What did I do wrong? Why didn't I... I should have known.”_

_“He told me not to tell you,” he says, his stomach twisting up, and he's going to puke again tonight, he knows it. “He said... he made me promise not to.”_

_She sighs. “I don't understand. I asked you if he hurt you.”_

_“You asked me if he hit me,” he says, swallowing. “He... he didn't. He... He told me he had a special present... early for my birthday, and I could have it... if I proved I was old enough... if I could keep it a secret... and I hated what he did, but I'd promised and... and I asked for it... and... it was my fault...”_

_“Oh, God,” she mutters, dragging him close to her. “Don't think that. Don't ever let him get you to believe that. You didn't do anything wrong. He tricked you. He hurt you. He lied to you and he used you. He used both of us, but I won't let him do it again. I promise.”_

_He lets her hold him, and he tries to believe her, but he knows that promise has already been broken, and he's tired of trying to fight it. He knows she needs to believe, so he'll fake it for her. He's good at faking things. He's been faking things since this horrible thing with his dad started._

_He can keep doing it for a while._

_Maybe forever._

* * *

Scott didn't like coincidences, and none of this felt right, even if he was glad to see Jason—JD—again after all these years. He had come to the reunion because he needed a change, a decision he'd regretted not long after getting on the road, but he'd still tried to make himself stick with it because that was what he did. He saw things through.

Scott Chandler was a man of his word, and they knew that back home. Even the kin he had here knew it, if they knew him at all.

So he'd do this, as much as it bothered him the way this thing was shaping up. The timing was interesting, that was for damned sure, not that he'd bothered with any previous reunions, even if this was supposed to be a big one this time. Then being at the hotel just as JD and Veronica showed up to the office.

He wouldn't say he wasn't glad he'd been there, Lord knew the kids needed help, with no one else listening to them—well, he couldn't say that, the man at the diner would have helped them, though Scott was a little glad he had his hands full with his business—but he was unsettled, and it wasn't just because Trish was missing.

And damn him if he wasn't a liar and a hypocrite, too, holding back all his frustration and anger because he knew what it did to the boy. He hated the way Jason would flinch and shy away from loud voices—and men in general—and the idea of some bastard hurting either of them made his blood boil, but Scott had always made sure he stayed as calm as possible even if he wanted to find Jason's father and beat the unholy shit out of him.

That man did not deserve either of them. Jason was a bright, precocious child, curious and playful once he got past his initial fear, and Scott had loved showing him around the farms and teaching him how to fix things. He probably would have been a good mechanic, since he had a better sense of the machines than Scott did. He liked learning, too, would soak it all up like a sponge, and the kid impressed the hell out of him.

And Trish... Well, Scott had known pretty much from the start he was doomed. She'd given him a menu and he wanted to ask her out then and there, but she was a bit stand-offish and things moved, and he didn't think it ever was going to be more than a few smiles over a diner counter. He was no prize and he knew it. He didn't have a steady job, he wasn't half as educated as the cousins he was supposed to see tomorrow, and probably the last thing a woman like Trish—or anyone, for that matter—wanted.

_“You could do better, you know.”_

_Scott looked over at her, shaking his head. She didn't understand, and he didn't have it in him to tell her everything he knew she should know about him. He'd grown up in this small town, and it wasn't easy to tell secrets, the things that hid behind thin walls and even thinner smiles._

_“How do you figure that?” he asked. “I don't have much of my own, just a ramshackle house and an even more ramshackle truck. People give me work here and there and we all pretend it's not pity. Ah, he never got out of this place because his knee got busted up in high school so he couldn't play pro—never mind that I hated the game, just had to play because it was the only way out and then maybe people didn't look down so much on my mom because she limped so bad and could only do washing for money or talk about my dad who was drunk more often than he was sober. It's not—why are you looking at me like that?”_

_Trish shook her head. “I don't know. You just... don't seem like...”_

_“What?”_

_“You seem happy, that's all.”_

_He reached over to brush her cheek with the back of his hand. “That's 'cause I'm with you.”_

_“Flatterer.”_

_He smiled back at her. “No, it's not flattery. I like being around you. And Jason. He reminds me of when I was young, you know? Suppose that sounds stupid. I just... I was always so interested in everything when I was his age, bouncing around town and trying to learn from anyone and everyone. My mom was always so tired, she never had time... I see you with Jason, and you always try, you know? No matter how tired you are.”_

_“I'm not superwoman. I get tired and snap at him and... and you don't know how badly I've failed him. I couldn't... I couldn't protect him when it really mattered.”_

_“You do now,” Scott said, pulling her into his arms, and she sighed as he held her. He knew she wouldn't accept it, but she was ten times the woman his mother had been, and he knew that wasn't fair to think, not when she'd been as beaten down as she was, but she'd never even bothered to save him, just seemed relieved it wasn't her turn that time around._

_If he was honest, he still hated her some for it, and so he tried not to think about it much._

He shook his head, forcing himself onward, knowing he had to make himself go through that door, much as he didn't want to. If he was right about this—well, he'd never have forgiven himself before, but it wouldn't be any easier now.

He stepped inside, hearing the bell chime for him, and he took off his hat, feeling uncomfortable. This wasn't right somehow, and he could feel it even before the woman came out of the back office.

He tensed, trying to understand what he was seeing.

“Sheila?”

“Scott,” his cousin said, giving him a wide smile that reminded him unpleasantly of his mother's. “I didn't know you were stoppin' by. You here for the reunion, then?”

“Not exactly.”

“Oh?”

“Don't get cute, Sheila,” he said, since there was no love lost between the two of them. Maybe she got out, and she'd clearly done well for herself, but she hadn't cared who she hurt to do it, and he'd never forgive her for that. “I know Bud Dean hired you. Where is she? Where is Trish?”

* * *

Heather rose from her chair, frustrated. This was supposed to be a five minute task, in and out. She stop in and drop off something for her father's cousin and be done with it. All she had to do was get the woman to sign off on the little sheet, and she was out of here, but for some reason, Sheila had been in a chatty mood, much to Heather's annoyance.

Sheila had no style, no taste, and nothing useful to speak of. Heather had never liked acknowledging her as family, since the woman dressed worse than Fleming and made Heather look like Mother Theresa when it came to kindness.

She heard Sheila start off in her fake Southern belle act and rolled her eyes. Could that woman be any more obnoxious? Probably not.

She decided to interrupt whatever this was and get the signature, but as she got close to the door, she heard the man's voice rise, and he sounded angry.

She opened the door just a little, curious. Anyone who might put that cow in her place was fine with Heather, since someone sure needed to.

“I don't know what you're talking about, and even if I did, my client list is confidential. I couldn't discuss any work I did for anyone, and I'm insulted that you think I'd keep track of your foolish little paramour.”

“You are such a bitch,” he said, and Heather smiled at the words. “I figured out a long time ago what you really did for money in this place, so don't pretend you're any kind of professional—it doesn't take any real skill to accept money for sex, and you never fooled anyone, not now and not when we were kids. Don't think I've forgotten what you did back then. What I want to know is why you can't let it go. You won. You won, and you don't have to do this.”

“Oh, please, Scott. You flatter yourself too much. You think this is about you? Of course it isn't. It was amusing turning you down when you asked for my agency's help locating that woman, and it was rather like a gift, her ex-husband coming along a year or so ago thinking he could hire me to find her, too, and didn't I just have an advantage because I knew everything you'd told me... and she might just have been weak and stupid enough to think she could see you again if she came here around the time of our great big family to-do. I mean, she didn't dare go back, no, since she knew he'd look for her there, but here? It was almost too easy.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. Really, it was all you. You and your noble streak. Always having to help out the weak and pitiful, never realizing just how much like them you were. She knew you'd help her if you were here, though why she thought you'd show I have no idea.”

“You're sick, Sheila. Do you have any idea what that man will do to her if he gets her back? What he'll do to their son?”

“I could care less. It was simple, easy money, and that's really all that matters to me. You know us Chandlers. We always know how to look out for number one.”

Heather gagged. She had hated being related to this woman before, but now, it was worse. Even she didn't do that kind of stuff for money. She didn't know what her relationship with David was, but it wasn't like that.

And maybe she was mean to kids at school, but she'd never actually gotten anyone beaten or anything. Humiliated, sure, but that was different.

Wasn't it?

She jumped back as something hard hit the wall. “Tell me where Trish is. Now. Or I swear, I will snap your scrawny little neck.”

“You don't have the guts. Not then, when Daddy was beating the hell out of you and your momma and not now.”

“You had me fooled back then. I thought he'd hurt you, too. That you were as much a victim as we—as I was—but you're not. I've got nothing but contempt for you, and if anything happens to them because of you, you will pay.”

“I'm not afraid of you.”

“You should be. You can only push a good man so far.”

* * *

“You've never played this, have you?” Veronica asked, trying not to laugh as she studied JD's form—or complete lack there of—as he tried to line up a shot. She couldn't do it, laugh at him, not when he was clearly nervous, afraid he'd screw up and do something stupid, which she had to admit, was easy to do in croquet, but at the same time, he didn't understand that it didn't matter if you did.

She didn't care how badly he played. She'd only asked him out here because it was the best thing she could think of to keep them both distracted.

“I don't know what I'm doing,” he admitted. “Mom and I... we never played croquet. She took me to a mini golf course once, just the once. We... it was fun... but I wasn't any good... and she was... hell, she was trying too hard. She wanted us to have a good night out, something to make up for all the nights on the run and stuff... but she was tired from her double the day before and it hurt her to play... and I knew it, so I don't know why she bothered.”

Veronica gave him a sad smile. “I know. She would have done anything for you, to see you smile. I would like to do the same.”

“You would?” he asked, setting down the mallet and frowning at her. “Why? I mean... you are adorable and beautiful and smart and tough and—”

“And a lot of that applies to you, too.”

He snorted. “You know it doesn't. I'm not—what about me is adorable? I'm either a jerk or a mess, and who wants that? I'm not smart, and I'm sure as hell not tough. And I guess... I mean... don't want to go there, but he did say—”

She reached over and put her fingers on his lips before he could torment himself with that. “You are smarter than you think, and this isn't—what you went through no one should have to experience, and yet you keep going, as hard as it is, and that makes you stronger than you think. And you are beautiful, not in the sick way he meant it but in a lot of others that aren't just about the way you look and I know we haven't known each other for that long, but it feels like... like a lot longer and a lot more than just... you know... friends.”

He frowned. “You know... I've never really had... friends. Even when we were in Hot Springs for ten months... I didn't... Scott was the only one, and it wasn't the same...”

“You wanted him as your father. Not like your dad, but like a father should be,” she said, and JD shrugged, apparently not comfortable with discussing that. She couldn't blame him for that, though. “Do you still want to play or should we make up our own rules?”

He studied her. “You know, that went from normal to dirty in like... no time at all.”

“What? I wasn't even—wow. You got me again, you jerk,” she said, and he laughed, wrapping his arms around her. She smiled, willing to put up with crap like that for the sound of his laughter and the way it felt in his arms. This was good. It was nice. She could do it forever.

She reached up, placing her hand on his cheek, and he turned into her, kissing her again, and damn, he was really good at that, and she didn't want to think about why because that would ruin it, but he made her feel like she would melt right here and she was okay with that as long as he wasn't panicking about his mom. Scott would be back soon, right? He had to be.

JD could use the distraction. And this was nice, wasn't it? She wanted to believe she was doing the right thing for him.

“Well, hello, Jason. It's been too long.”

JD tensed, and she swore she heard him let out something close to a whimper behind her.

“What, nothing to say to dear old dad?”


	11. And I Move Like Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontations continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one... um... hurt.

* * *

_  
He learns the hard way few things numb the pain or dull the memories, and he doesn't know what to do with himself. Free of his dad, he should feel better, but he doesn't. He knows his mom isn't much better. She's been bad since she found him again, and he knows she blames herself. It's worse every time Bud finds them._

_JD's not sure why they keep going sometimes. He can't feel clean or good again, always remembering and hating himself for it. He knew his mom said it wasn't his fault, but he felt like it was, and his dad always made it sound like it was._

_How many times had he told JD that he wanted it? That he'd asked for it? That he wouldn't have traded himself for his mom if he didn't really want it. If he said he'd rather die, then he didn't mean it because he didn't actually die. He went through with it. He lived._

_JD sometimes wonders if it would be easier if he did die, if he found some way of ending it. He thinks about it a lot, more when he was with his dad then when he wasn't, but if all he had to look forward to was another bit of running and then going through it all again—being found, being hurt, escaping and running again—why bother? Why shouldn't he just end it here and now?_

_Well, he doesn't know that he could make himself cut his own wrists, and he's thought about hanging himself, but that wasn't much better. He needs something that is quick, something he can't undo or stop in the middle of because he's a coward._

_He tries to tell himself he's not, but he is. He's terrified of his dad, of going back, of what his dad says being true—that he wants it and likes it and is nothing but a whore who lies to himself about it._

_He looks over at his mom, asleep, and thinks it would spare them both if he was just gone. His father wouldn't want to hurt her again if not for him. He would leave her alone._

_So JD could die and spare his mom, and that would be good for her, and he wouldn't have to suffer any longer._

_He just doesn't know how to do it. Not yet._

* * *

“I'm not playing games with you, Sheila. You used up all of your goodwill with me years ago, and you know it,” Scott said. His words shamed him even as he said them, but he couldn't deny it. As hard a life as they'd all had back then, it didn't excuse her for selling him out to his dad, costing him his way out. She got to keep hers, running off with that jerk and not looking back.

He'd gotten a broken leg and a lot of shattered dreams under the oppression of his dad until the bastard finally killed his liver, and even after that, Scott wasn't free. He had his mother to think about, since she couldn't make it on her own, and damned if she didn't linger on like a weight around his neck, never once grateful for him sticking by her, though he knew she'd have hated him more if he'd gone.

“I'm not telling you a damned thing,” Sheila said. “You always acted like you were better than me when you weren't. Like you had something I didn't even though everyone knew what your dad was and what he did to you.”

“That's not what you want to be reminding me of right now,” Scott warned her. If he thought about that, he thought about his dad and he thought about a silent promise he'd made and unintentionally broken to JD and Trish. “Don't think I won't hurt you.”

“You're a coward, Scott. You let him do it to you, and you don't have the guts to do what has to be done here. You're a disgrace to the name Chandler, if you ever were one in the first place.”

“I don't want the damned name. It's no good anyway.”

“Not with people like her around, anyway,” another voice said, and Scott turned over to see a girl about Veronica's age standing there. He stared in disbelief, not understanding. Who was this? Why was she here? How long had she been there? Had she seen and heard everything?

“Oh, like you're any better, Heather. You're a slut and a bully, or haven't you figured that out yet?”

“I'm still better than you,” the girl said, pulling on her jacket. She faced Scott. “I know where she lives, and since she's probably too stupid to think anyone would check there or that she'd get caught, I can show you were it is.”

“Oh, sure. Like I'd use my own house to keep a kidnapped woman.”

Scott gave his cousin a sour look. “I don't think it's too impossible to believe, and even if you didn't, it's still a place worth checking.”

“You're still an idiot.”

“An idiot who knows a few things about houses and you,” he told her. “If there's a hidden place there, I'll find it. And I know there's no basement or attic in this building, so you don't have a good place to stash Trish here. Your house is the next best option because you wouldn't risk a paper trail or somewhere you can't control her, which goes back to your house being the most likely place.”

She glared at him, and he figured it was that simple. She hadn't figured on anyone finding her or knowing where to look beyond her home. Maybe she'd even figured that being a Chandler would save her, here where the name meant more because their richer relations had reputations to protect.

“I thought you had a spine,” Sheila told Heather. “I thought you were really a Chandler. Why would you tell him anything?”

“Because being hard as nails doesn't mean a fucking thing if it means being like you,” Heather said. “I won't deny I like being worshiped, but if that's me someday, forget it. I'd rather be fucked by a chainsaw.”

Now that was Chandler strength, Scott had to admit. “Interesting turn of phrase you've got there.”

She shrugged. “Are you going to knock her out or tie her up? We should go.”

“We?” Scott asked. “Since when is this a 'we' thing?”

“Since right now,” the girl answered with a smug shrug.

* * *

Heather didn't know what the hell she was doing, but she did it anyway.

She wasn't someone who cared what others thought of her, not really, and she shouldn't care what that guy meant to do to his wife or his son. That was nothing to do with her.

Except... she was a Chandler, and she wanted that to mean something. She didn't want it to mean what Sheila was, but when she thought about what David said about her family having a reputation, she had to wonder if that was what he'd meant. Especially when he pushed her to bring her friends so they could be “dates” and his friends were expecting sex, too.

Heather was way too damned much like Sheila for her own liking, and she refused to be that any longer. She was not that sick. She was her own person, and she could do much better than this. She could still be feared and loved without having to give away sex or turn people over to abusive assholes.

And wouldn't that goody-goody little Veronica just love this change of heart?

Heather rolled her eyes at herself. She didn't care about that, either. She just refused to be Sheila, and that was all there was to it. She pointed to the house as Scott got close to it. “There. That one.”

“Damn. I didn't think she could afford anything that nice.”

Heather snorted. “Sex sells.”

He shook his head, parking his ugly ass car in the driveway and getting out. Heather climbed out of her side, Sheila's keys in hand. She went toward the door, jogging up and unlocking it. She had to wonder what they'd say about this. Would she make the papers? Be hailed as a hero?

Idiots, she thought, and unlocked the door, stepping inside.

He followed her, taking a step across the hardwood floor and then backtracking. “There's a basement. We should start there.”

She shook her head, not needing some weird sound from a board to tell her there was a basement around here someplace. Sheila wouldn't risk keeping someone in plain sight or where people could hear her. She had to lock her up someplace quiet and dark.

She walked around, looking for the door to the stairwell, but it wasn't by the kitchen or dining room, not back by the bedroom or the bathroom, either. She didn't see anything here that didn't look high class and like no one at all used it, ever. This was all so pristine it was like Sheila didn't live here at all, which didn't actually surprise Heather that much.

“You're sure there's a basement?” she asked, rejoining Scott in the hallway.

He nodded, opening the linen closet and feeling along the wall and under the shelf. She heard something click and then the shelf swung backward, revealing a staircase. He reached out and pulled on the light hanging above it and started down.

“Trish?”

Heather didn't hear an answer, but she followed him anyway, grimacing as she did. She kept expecting to step in something God awful. She shook it off and grabbed hold of his jacket as he went deeper into the basement, where the light didn't shine.

“Trish? Can you hear me? Are you here?”

Heather went to the wall and started feeling around for the light. She wanted to see where she was going and what she was looking at. She took in the odd stands around the room and the bed right smack in the middle of it. “Holy fuck? What is this?”

Scott grimaced. “Looks like she made a little studio for herself, too.”

“Okay, gross,” Heather said, disgusted by the idea. “So... where's your girlfriend, then?”

Scott shook his head. “Not my girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. He went to the wall and ran a hand along it, opening another panel. He winced, getting down on his knees as he knelt next to the woman bound up in the small space. Her mouth was taped shut and there was dried blood in her hair.

“Oh, Trish. God, I should have done so much more to her.”

The woman woke when he spoke and lashed out madly, hitting him with her hands, wailing at him with tears and muffled screams.

“Trish, please. Stop. It's not Bud. It's not him, okay? He's not here. He's not here. It's me. It's Scott. You remember Scott?”

She stopped, staring at him in confusion.

“I'm going to take this off, okay? Then we'll untie you. Try and stay calm.”

The woman nodded, and he winced as he ripped off the tape. He moved his hands down to hers, and she shook as he did.

“Jason. Where's Jason? Did he—”

“I left JD with his girlfriend at her house when I went to confront Bud's private detective.”

“I don't—where—he's—how did you—”

“It's a long story,” he said, untying her hands. “Is... was your head all she did? She just tied you up and—”

“I... I thought I made Bud mad... calling him a coward,” Trish whispered, trembling. “He came back and hit me in the dark. I never saw him. Then... then everything was... smaller. Tighter. I thought... I don't know... Are you sure—if Jason thought Bud had me, he'd go to him. He'd turn himself in. He would. He thinks he's protecting me if he does.”

Scott stopped, moving his hands to her face. “I don't doubt he would do anything for you just like you did for him, but Veronica kept telling him we'd find you, and I don't think he would have left her. At least, I hope she kept him good and distracted. Now, I'm going to finish untying this and I'll take you back to him. I promise.”

“Um,” Heather said, even more grossed out now that she could see more of the damage. “I think you might want to stop by the hospital first. That's... um... a lot of blood.”

* * *

“What, nothing to say to dear old Dad?”

Veronica had a few thousand things to say to him, starting with go to hell and ending with how she'd gladly castrate him right here, but she couldn't manage to say any of it, and JD was worse, shaking and letting out some kind of strangled noise that she was afraid was him going into a panic, something he couldn't do if they were going to fight this bastard.

“Not even hello?” the man went on, smiling in a way that made her sick. “You had to know I'd come for you.”

“No.”

“You can leave,” Veronica said, making sure she kept herself between JD and his father. “You're trespassing and not wanted here.”

“Oh, your parents invited me in. They're very sympathetic, seeing as my son ran away and spun this horrible story about how I abused him and his mother when the truth is she abandoned him and he's just so lost and angry and I need to bring him home.”

“You're sick,” Veronica said, cursing her parents for buying that load of bullshit. How could they after what she'd told him about JD? Why was it that adults got the benefit of the doubt but kids were always lying? She hadn't lied. JD hadn't. He was in real trouble right now. If his father got hold of him, he'd do the worst to him.

“I see you believe Jason's lies as well. Not that I should be surprised. He's very good at denying the truth of things—where he belongs and what he's supposed to do.”

“No one is supposed to do what you do to him. That's all kinds of fucked up.”

Bud snorted. “And in his little sob story, did he tell you how he begged me for it for weeks? How he can pretend all he likes, but he asked for it, and he still does. He enjoys it.”

JD gagged behind her, and she wanted to puke herself. She didn't believe that for a second. Sure, he'd liked kissing her, and they'd almost done more than kiss, but that wasn't the same at all. It also stopped because the memory of what his father did made him unable to go through with it.

“You're the liar,” she said. “You twist it all around so you don't have to think about how wrong and sick and fucking twisted you are. You have to be to do that to your own son. There's nothing right about it, and even if—and I know he didn't, no matter what you say or what you forced him to do or to think—he 'asked' for it or 'enjoyed' it, you were the one that went through with it, the one that actually made it happen, so you're still the one to blame for the whole damned thing.”

Bud glared at her. “You are very irritating. As are you, Jason. I can't believe you're hiding behind yet another woman and asking her to fight your battles for you. Especially when you know better. You have no choice, and you already agreed. You're coming with me.”

“You said I had three days.”

Veronica turned and stared at him. “You... you actually... agreed to go?”

JD looked at her, completely miserable. “He has my mom. I have to.”

“No. No, you're not going. I won't let you.”

“And this would be why you can't have three days. You can't be trusted to do what you're supposed to. I mean, look at you, cowering behind her and trying to apologize for doing what you should have done already,” Bud said, taking a step toward them. “Come, Jason. You know better than this. You know what you are and who you belong to. You are leaving with me. Now.”

“He's not going with you,” Veronica repeated. “You can't do that, and you don't even have his mom. That private detective does, and Scott's going to get her back from her, and you have nothing. You're just a sick pervert who will be arrested this time.”

“Make no mistake, you will pay for this interference,” Bud said, and she flipped him off, pushing JD further back, out of his reach. 

She stumbled over the croquet mallet and grabbed for it, swinging it hard at Bud. He wasn't expecting it, and it hit him right in the chest. He snarled at her, catching it when she tried to bring it back around again.

They struggled for control of it, and JD rushed for his father. “Let her go. Leave her alone.”

Bud shoved him back, and he fell, hitting the ground hard. He groaned, and Bud yanked the mallet from her hands. He swung it at her head, and pain exploded through her skull as she heard a crack.

She went down, everything noisy and confusing, the throbbing making her sick, and her vision going in and out as Bud stepped toward her.

“Stop,” Jason yelled, and she thought he was closer to her, too. “Don't. Dad, please. I'll go with you. Just... don't hurt her. I'll go. I'm coming with you. I'll do what you want. Just leave her alone.”


	12. Like Fire and Flood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discovery is made at the Sawyer house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... today I am in another one of those moods, with being incompetent at my job starting it off, adding to that in mailing a package, and by the time my computer ate my work halfway through the chapter, I was convinced it was a lost cause. That I'm a lost cause. That part, at least, is true. 
> 
> I don't think the chapter needs extra warnings, but I could be wrong about that.

* * *

_He sits in the bottom of the shower, letting the water run over and over him. It's freezing, but he doesn't care. Cold means numb, and numb is as close to feeling good as he gets anymore. He can't get free of the taint, the feel. It's been weeks since his mom got him out of that hellhole his father put him in, the place he kept him locked up and hidden away so he could do whatever he wanted to him without people interrupting or seeing, not that anyone ever helped besides his mother._

_He feels sick again, since it's hard to eat. The things his father did took away any appetite, and every time he thinks he has it back, he tastes that again and hates it. He knows what evil tastes like, and it's his dad._

_He bangs his head against the shower wall, trying to stop those thoughts, but he can't. If he had any hope that maybe he'd get too old or tall or anything for his dad to want him, he'd lost it a long time ago when his father kept insisting he was always going to be his and that his body was better than before._

_He thinks about it, about trying to make himself less appealing, but he doesn't know how. He can't eat and get fat because he has no appetite. He thought about cutting himself up, but his father does sick things to his scars and he doesn't think that will work, either._

_Why is there no way to make this end?_

_He wishes he could kill his father._

_He wishes he could kill himself._

* * *

“Christ, I'd forgotten how stubborn you were,” Scott grumbled, and Tricia smiled a little at his words. She shouldn't enjoy frustrating him, but she had always liked that in spite of how irritating she must have been and how he would have liked to curse up a blue storm and tell her off, he'd pull himself back and sometimes even laugh at how far she'd pushed him, telling her he admired her strength.

She never really felt strong before him, and never after, not when she failed Jason so badly.

“She's insane, that's what she is,” Heather said from the back seat, and Tricia really didn't know what she thought of that girl. She was glad that wasn't the one Jason had fallen for, since she was all rough edges and not as gentle as someone like her son needed.

“I just need to see him,” Tricia insisted. “If I know Jason's okay, I can go to the hospital. I'll be fine as long as I see him. If I don't...”

“I know,” Scott said, taking the corner a little too fast. He was worried, and she could tell. She didn't mean to make this worse, but as much as she hurt, she couldn't go anywhere besides where her son was. She wanted to trust Scott, but nothing was the same as seeing Jason with her own eyes.

And she knew Bud. She knew it didn't matter if some private detective had her. He would still have demanded Jason come to him, and that poor, selfless boy, he'd do it. He'd go back to his father to abuse if he thought it would spare her.

She knew that was the only reason Bud left her alive, so he could control Jason by threatening her. And now Jason had a girl in his life that Bud could hurt even easier, and as much as Tricia hoped he never knew about Veronica, she didn't think they were that lucky. They never had been before.

“You still bleeding?”

She lifted the cloth from her side. “Not as much.”

“Trish—”

“I'm not lying, but even if I was, it wouldn't matter. I'd still refuse to let you take me to the hospital first. I need to see Jason. More importantly, he needs to see me. He... I'm surprised he didn't already go to his father... He has before, when Bud found me first...”

“This time he had Veronica,” Scott said. “That girl kept him safe.”

“And you. He had you,” Tricia said, closing her eyes as the pain got bad. “I didn't... I never asked... how... how did you...?”

“I came for the reunion. Was at the hotel when JD went to check out. Dumb luck, but I won't fault it this time. I'm glad I came, that I was here when you needed me.”

She sighed. “Scott...”

“Bud found you that night, didn't he?”

She shook her head. “He found Jason. I was with you... he didn't even bother... It took me months to get him back...”

“Shit.”

“The life was all gone from him... he was just so... he thought I'd died... and Bud let him believe it, that he was never getting out of there... and it shattered his spirit... he was never the same... that boy you knew disappeared... and all I could do was blame myself... if I'd been there—”

“Don't. You don't know what would have happened if you were,” Scott said. “What if Bud had killed you that night? Not that I don't... I blamed myself for you leaving for a long time. And now... I wish I'd been there. Maybe I couldn't have done a thing to stop my dad, but I'd have done my damnedest to stop Bud.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“You could have come back to me. I know you blamed yourself—blamed us—for that, but I'd have done everything I could to keep you both safe.”

“Scott—”

“I have to agree with him. It was dumb not to get help, even if you felt guilty.”

Tricia looked back at the girl, raising a hand and flipping her off since she was too tired to argue.

“Heather, could you please stay out of this?” Scott asked. “I know we said a lot in front of you, but you don't need to—”

“Call people on their bullshit? Yeah, I do. Even if he came back for them there, at least they'd have had you which is more than they have now.”

“You're not helping. Trish feels guilty enough as it is, and you don't know that it would have been better. I want to believe it would have been, but Sheila had a point—I never won against my dad. I could have lost to Bud, too, and then where would they be?”

That shut her up, as did him stopping the car abruptly. Tricia bit back a groan as the pain got bad. She refused to let it keep her from her son. 

“Let's go.”

* * *

Heather followed Scott and his girlfriend up toward the house. She still thought the woman was kind of an idiot, though she didn't know what she would have done if it had been her. She'd like to think she'd never be in that mess herself—she was a Chandler, after all—but then she remembered Sheila and thought about her thing with David, and her stomach twisted up in ways that had nothing to do with this shitstorm she'd stumbled into.

She refused to think about it. She'd just finish this, maybe talk to Veronica, though she supposed no one would want to hear her thoughts on this guy Veronica had gotten mixed up with. What a prize she'd found this time.

“Heather,” Mrs. Sawyer said, rising to greet her. “We didn't know you were coming by. Veronica didn't mention it.”

“Well, she did ditch me for her boyfriend, so I suppose she might not want to face me right now.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Sawyer looked at Scott and Trish and frowned. “Um, I didn't know you were bringing others along with you. I'm not so sure you should be socializing in your condition.”

“I'm not here to chit chat,” Trish said. “I'm here to see my son.”

“Your son?” Mrs. Sawyer asked, almost squeaking on it. “That's not possible.”

“It is, Mrs. Sawyer,” Scott said. “Trish is JD's mother.”

Mrs. Sawyer shook her head. “But... Jason's mom... she... she abandoned him.”

“Oh, God,” Trish said, clawing at Scott in a panic. “He's here. He's been here. He's got Jason. How could you? How could you let that monster into your house? Let him near my son? Where are they? Where is my son?”

“The kids were out back playing croquet,” Mrs. Sawyer said. “I think you need to calm down. You're hurt and—”

“Where the hell is your back yard?” Trish demanded. She tried to move and ended up falling, her hand on her side as she swore under her breath.

“Stay here, please,” Scott said. “I know you're—just don't hurt yourself more, please.”

She shuddered. “It's too late, isn't it? He's gone. He took Jason and he left.”

“You have to understand,” Mr. Sawyer began, putting his hand on his wife's shoulder. “Mr. Dean came, he was very calm, reasonable. He said he just wanted to talk to his son as Jason had... some difficulties with their move. He hadn't been coping well since his mom abandoned them, and he made up stories because he was angry with Mr. Dean, blamed him for his mom taking off... It was all very... reasonable.”

“No,” Trish said, shuddering. “Why is it he can always do this? Why does everyone believe him?”

“Because no one listens to kids,” Heather muttered. Everyone looked at her, and she rolled her eyes. “You want me to believe Veronica didn't tell you about her boyfriend's sob story? Please. I know she did. And where the fuck is she, anyway? Shouldn't she be in here screaming about how horrible you are for letting this happen?”

“Um... she never came back inside after Mr. Dean left with his son,” Mrs. Sawyer said, frowning.

“Shit,” Heather said, and she took off running for the backyard, having a pretty good idea what she was going to find when she got there. She shoved the door open and ran across the porch, down the stairs and stopping next to Veronica in the grass.

Blood stained the ground next to her, and Heather could see it on the mallet lying next to her, too.

“Don't you dare die on me, Sawyer,” Heather muttered, reaching over to Veronica. The other girl moaned, stirring just a little.

“Heather? How is she?”

She looked up at Scott. “She's alive. I don't know... there's blood... he hit her in the head with a damned mallet.”

“Call an ambulance,” Scott yelled back at the house, coming down to join her next to Veronica. He looked at the wound and winced. Heather could tell he didn't want to say anything else. There was nothing good to say.

“How could he just... walk out after this?” Heather demanded. “He should have raised a fuss, yelled and screamed and told them what a fucked up bastard his dad is.”

“Heather,” Scott said, his voice pained. “You think he dared do anything after Bud did this to her? He went along with his dad because it was the only way he could think of to keep him from killing her.”

Heather looked down at Veronica and said the only thing that seemed fitting at the moment. “Fuck.”

* * *

“You knew better than this.”

JD didn't look over at his father. He didn't dare. He couldn't face that bastard, couldn't bear to, not when he knew what was coming. He couldn't do anything but shudder, fighting the bile that was trying to come up his throat. He hadn't eaten anything today, couldn't with his mom missing, and that just made the heaving worse.

He kept seeing Veronica lying there, bloody, and he couldn't get that image out of his head. She'd been so strong and brave, and he should have done more to stop her or protect her, and he hadn't. He hadn't stopped his dad, hadn't left with him right away to save her, and now she was going to die, and it was all his fault.

If he'd just gone back to his dad like he knew he had to, he could have saved her.

“You had better not cry,” Bud went on from the driver's seat. “You brought all of this on yourself. You got that girl hurt. You knew better than to run from me. You knew better than to fight me.”

JD trembled, wishing his father would stop talking. “You got what you wanted. Just shut up.”

His father snorted. “I haven't gotten what I wanted. Not yet, anyway.”

JD gagged, turning away from him. He should have expected that, since it wasn't like his father had done much more than force him into the car. He was driving well out of Sherwood, leaving it all behind before anyone knew what he'd done to Veronica.

They'd look for him for that. Why wasn't he the least bit afraid of that?

“Soon enough,” Bud said. “Don't think you can avoid it for very long. It's been over two years, and I fully intend to make up for every day you were gone.”

JD choked. “Don't. I'll puke. You... you'd have to stop the car. You don't want that. Just... stop talking.”

“If you think you can avoid a discussion of just how much you've displeased me, you're mistaken,” Bud told him. “I don't care if you puke, and if you give me an excuse to pull the car over, you'll be the one regretting it.”

JD looked over at him, shaking his head. His father didn't mean that. It would be too public. He wouldn't. He just... wouldn't. “No.”

Bud smiled. “What, you think people won't believe it if I tell them you're a hitchhiking hooker? You're old enough now that people won't just assume you're my son. Even more of them will look the other way now. Oh, they'll turn up their nose at the idea of two men, but they're not going to think you're a victim. It's not like you are. You want it.”

“I don't,” JD said, feeling even sicker than before. His father was probably right about that. People might actually think it was something else, that it wasn't his father forcing it but something between two grownups and that was different. Not an obvious crime, not like before, even if people didn't think it could happen to boys.

They'd really think he wanted it, and he didn't.

“See? Now you understand.”

JD looked over at him. “You're the one that doesn't understand. You're the one that doesn't get it. You tell me I want it, but I don't. I know I don't. I hate you. I hated you before, and I'll hate you until I die. Not that—you hurt Veronica. You killed her. And... no. I'm not doing this again.”

“You don't have any choice in the matter. You already got in the car, remember?”

“Yeah,” JD said, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for the door handle. He knew he was in a car. He knew he was on the highway. He knew this would probably kill him.

He didn't care. He'd rather die, and if Veronica was dead...

Well, there wasn't any point in surviving his father, not if she was gone. He knew he should for his mom, but he couldn't keep doing this, and this might be the only chance he got.

He opened the door and jumped out onto the pavement. It hurt as he fell, jarring his body as he skidded to a stop, his skin burning where it was cut.

A car's horn blared, but he didn't even bother to move.


	13. I Saw Life in You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tricia and Veronica make it to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... This one was... painful.

* * *

_Tricia pours herself a drink and hates herself for the idea of adding some of it to Jason's soda. He's staring at the walls again, and she knows he can't cope. She doesn't know what to do. Her promises have become lies, as much as she tries, and he doesn't believe her anymore. He knows she can't keep him safe, even if she'd die for him. His father won't give up, and he keeps finding them, keeps hurting her son._

_She still can't believe she didn't see it, but that's all past. That's something she can't change._

_She just... doesn't know what she can change, to make any of this better for him. Jason needs help, but she's go nowhere to turn, no one to take him to..._

_Her mind goes back to Scott. She blames herself for that, for the mistakes she made then, but she has to wonder... would Jason be better off if she left him there? What if she kept running, tried to distract Bud, and maybe then Jason would have the life he should have for once? Would that be enough?_

_She doesn't know. She wants to believe it, but she couldn't live with herself if she left Jason behind and he ended up taken again._

_She doesn't know how to live with herself now. She hates her own cowardice, wanting to end it, but she's not even the one that suffered as much as Jason has. Bud has hit her. He's used her, but she was an adult who thought she knew what she was doing._

_Jason was a little boy who had no comprehension of the terrible things his father was going to do to him until it was much, much too late._

_She's a grown woman. She's his mother._

_She should have been able to spare him this._

_She hasn't ever managed that, not more than a few months at a time._

_She's a complete failure as a mother._

_And yet she knew he'd still sacrifice himself for her, that he'd give up everything to save her. She should be doing that for him, but she can't. She can't save him._

_She can't save either of them._

* * *

“We're going to take her up and get a look at her brain,” the nurse said, trying to sound a bit more confident than he was, and Tricia wanted to gag, sickened by the thought of that poor girl having brain damage or dying because of what Bud did. She knew if it were her daughter, she'd have a hard time forgiving anyone who got her in that position, and she had a terrible feeling that the Sawyers wouldn't forgive her or Jason for this.

She wanted to say it didn't matter. She was so angry herself with them, letting Bud into their house, especially after Veronica had told them what he'd done. Maybe she hadn't done it in the right way, but they hadn't even tried to stop him.

They were at least part to blame.

No one as much as she was, and she knew that. She'd never be able to make up for the mistake she'd made in marrying Bud Dean, in thinking there was any part of him that was decent. He'd had her fooled, but she should have seen it. Him losing interest in her as soon as Jason was born... she hadn't realized just how twisted that was. She thought it was the usual marriage malaise, that he found her fat and unappealing after the baby, even if she worked hard to get back in shape, not that he'd turned on Jason even back then.

“You were right to insist on going there,” Scott said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I really hope we found her in time.”

“It may be nothing more than a severe concussion,” the nurse said. Tricia didn't think she was supposed to be giving them all this false hope and making promises she couldn't keep, but then they probably wanted to keep Tricia nice and calm after her outburst when she came here, demanding to be let go so she could go after Jason.

She should be ashamed of herself. She was, but not for that. 

“We'll know more after we get that scan done,” the nurse went on, still trying too hard to stay upbeat. “How are you feeling? I was afraid you'd need surgery, not just stitches.”

“This is nothing,” Tricia said. She'd endured worse at Bud's hands, and it didn't compare to the pain of losing Jason, of knowing what he was facing right now.

The nurse forced a smile. She was a nice enough woman, but Tricia had little patience for it now. She tried to stand up again and got woozy.

“Whoa. You need to stay put now, Mrs. Dean,” the woman said, trying to sit her down.

“That's not my name,” Tricia said, not sure where the hell they'd gotten that from. She'd taken her maiden name back as soon as the divorce went through, and she didn't even want Jason carrying Bud's name, though with his attachment to going by JD, her last name would be a bit hard to explain. “I divorced that bastard. Don't call me that. And let go of me. I have to... I have to find Jason before... damn it, it's probably already too late.”

Scott sighed next to her. “He's still alive, Trish. Bud doesn't want him dead.”

She lowered her head as he wrapped his arms around her. “You don't know what it does to him. What Bud says to him... the way he twists it all around and tries to make it Jason's fault or something he... wants, turning that physical response against him...”

“I know more than you think,” Scott said, almost too low for her to hear.

“There was one thing,” the nurse said, biting her lip. “I should probably give this to the girl's parents... it was in her hand... I'm not sure what this means, but here.”

She passed Tricia a wadded up paper, and Tricia frowned as she unfolded it, looking down at the scribbles on it.

“What is it?”

“An address. This is... Jason wrote it. I can tell. That's how he does his Ds, has since started using his initials more than anything.”

Scott lifted it from her fingers. “You don't think...”

She did. “If he thought I was missing, he would have called Bud. It would explain how he knew where to find Jason. The phone call. He made it from Veronica's house.”

“And this is where Bud told him to go.”

She nodded.

Scott put his arm around her. “Here. Lean on me. We're going to see what's there.”

“Um, you really shouldn't—”

“I have to,” Tricia insisted, same as she had before. Jason wouldn't leave Bud if he thought she was still his prisoner. “Give that to the policeman, will you? They can send as many people there as they want. Or won't. I don't care. I'm going. Now.”

* * *

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Bud demanded, yanking Jason up from the ground. He should have known better than to use the car, but Jason's little girlfriend complicated matters in ways he really didn't like. He didn't care if the girl died, though they'd try and hunt him down for it, he was sure. At least he already had measures in place for that, and they weren't going to find him any time soon.

He'd lose the business, but he didn't care about that. He had all of his greatest hits—the best, most arousing explosions—on video, and while Jason hated watching them, Bud found the combination irresistible.

He couldn't wait to get Jason alone and start making up for that lost time. If only he hadn't had to use the regular car to appear normal. Jason never should have been able to get out of the car while it was moving. He could have gotten himself killed if that other car hadn't swerved at the last minute.

“Idiot,” Bud hissed, dragging Jason back toward the door.

His son glared at him. “No. You know I'd rather die than go with you.”

“Yeah? And how are you going to fight me now?”

Jason trembled, and Bud smiled at his realization, always enjoying when the boy backed himself into a corner. Nothing had been better than that first time, really, when he'd had to let Bud go on because he wanted his surprise. He'd done so much that night because he'd already promised and was trying to be so grown up and good.

Bud could have taken the boy right here and now, and it angered him that he couldn't afford to stop, not in the middle of the highway and not after Jason had drawn this much attention to them. Some of the cars just drove off, horns blaring and drivers angry, but others had slowed down and at least one had stopped like they wanted offer help.

Bud had the only help Jason needed or was going to get, though, and as soon as they were alone, the boy was paying for this, too. He couldn't wait to do that, either. It had been too damned long, and he was going to enjoy the hell out of it.

Jason wouldn't, but then he deserved to hurt for all the time he'd kept them apart.

He shoved the boy back in the car, slamming the door shut behind him, taking the keys and locking it to buy a few seconds of time to get back to the driver's side. Jason was hurt, but he wasn't immobile, and the idiot would try this again.

First chance he got, then, he'd find somewhere deserted enough to pull of and put the boy in the trunk where he couldn't cause any more trouble.

He might even take the edge off of things first. Bud smiled to himself as he got back behind the wheel.

* * *

Heather paced the waiting area, not liking this one damned bit. They hadn't heard anything about Veronica in too long, and she almost wished she'd gone with Scott and his girlfriend, not liking having nothing to do but pace around the damned waiting room.

The Sawyers were sitting there, numb, not crying or anything, just staring like they couldn't believe this had happened, not that Heather thought she would if she hadn't seen it for herself. Sherwood had its share of screw ups, but this was a “nice” town where this kind of shit supposedly didn't happen.

Heather had a feeling it did more often than people knew, than she'd even thought about, and it shook her in ways she didn't even want to know about. She was not going to get sucked into this. She was only here to make sure Veronica didn't die or anything. That wasn't allowed to happen. Veronica might have shitty taste in boys, but she didn't deserve to die.

“Heather?”

She turned, frowning. Duke and McNamara were standing there. McNamara looked terrified that they'd done something she'd yell at them for, and Duke wasn't much better. She might even be reliving her last trip to this place, when her bulimia got her in a bed of her own long enough to worry her parents and piss Heather off.

Duke had a problem. Heather had mocked it rather than making her stop. She could have. She had the power everyone obeyed, didn't she? And instead, all she did was belittle it, still allowing it to happen.

What the hell was wrong with her?

“We heard about the ambulance going to Veronica's,” Duke said, and McNamara nodded. “We didn't know what happened.”

Heather almost said it was the boyfriend's fault, but she caught herself and stopped. Yeah, she was still pissed at him for bringing this into Veronica's life—all of their lives—but she didn't think he asked for a dad that was so obsessed with him he'd kill to get him back. No one would.

“Veronica's boyfriend has an abusive father,” she finally said. “He hit her and took the boy away.”

“Hit her?”

“With a croquet mallet.”

“Oh, God,” Duke said. “I don't know that I can ever play that game again. Ever.”

Heather snorted. Duke hadn't even seen it. “You'll live.”

“Will Veronica?” McNamara asked, frowning. “How bad was it? If there was an ambulance—it's got to be bad, right?”

“I don't know,” Heather said. She saw little Betty Finn walking into the waiting room, eyes wide and a bit terrified. Skittish little mouse, but she seemed to be pretty loyal if she was still showing up for Veronica after the other girl ditched her to become a Heather.

“Oh, Betty,” Mrs. Sawyer said. “I didn't know—and Heather and Heather. I didn't see you come in. I've been so... I don't even know what to... I'm such a mess... My little girl...”

“Shh,” Mr. Sawyer said, pulling her close into his arms. He didn't look much better than she did.

That was it. Heather was finding the damned doctor already.

* * *

Dark.

It was dark. Everything hurt.

He knew that was his fault. He'd screwed that up, too, trying to get free, to end it for good. He never seemed to get that right, whether it was not taking enough pills or not getting the rope tight enough or chickening out at the last second.

He hadn't had a chance to back out that time, and it should have been over. His father shouldn't have been able to get him back. The car was coming. Why had they stopped? He didn't want them to stop. Didn't they understand that someone who jumped out into traffic wanted to die?

He wished he had.

He'd gotten Veronica killed. His dad hadn't said he had his mom, but he would get her soon enough, and then he'd hurt her. Or he'd kill her, too.

And he kept saying he was going to make JD pay for the last two years, that what he'd done so far was only the start.

He couldn't do it. He wouldn't live through that. He didn't want to. He hadn't wanted to before, but he wanted it even less now. His dad had stolen all his reasons for living, and he couldn't go back to that. He wasn't going to do it. He didn't know how he'd stop his dad—he couldn't fight now, everything hurt and his dad had won already, so many times in just one day, but he wasn't going to let it keep happening.

He had to find a way to end it before his father stopped the car again, before he was out of the trunk. That was the only way. If his father got him there, if he took him out again... it was over. He'd be trapped as a whore for the rest of his life, and he knew his dad well enough to know the man would make sure he stayed alive for years to keep being his fuck toy.

No. He had to do this. He had to find something in this trunk that he could use to kill himself.

There. That bit of metal there. It was dull, but he could keep working on it until it cut through. He had to. He wasn't willing to live through this.

_I'm so sorry, Veronica. I never wanted to hurt you. I should never have talked to you again, never have kissed you._

He didn't know that he believed in any better place or anything, but if she was gone and looking down on him or something, he hoped maybe someday she could forgive him for this.

_I think I could love you._

She shouldn't have. He wasn't worth loving. He was just pain and death.

But he'd loved her. He knew that now. At the end, he knew.

He knew he was breaking the promise he'd made her when he knelt down to put the paper in her hand and say goodbye before his father dragged him away, but he couldn't do it.

_I know I said I'd live for you if you held on and made it, if you survived, but you're gone and I can't do this. I'm sorry._


	14. I Was Thin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Tricia look for JD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about this one. I mean, it's what needs to happen... it's just... not right somehow.

* * *

_Veronica dreams when she's young, but not like the other girls. She's older than her body in her mind, and it shows. They think she's weird, all but Betty, and even Betty doesn't understand her. When they play with dolls, making up stories of lives like adults, dreaming of weddings, Veronica doesn't see the point in it._

_She doesn't know that she'll ever be old enough where her mind fits her body, but she knows that she doesn't actually care about this fantasy of being older. Being married. Being in love._

_Her parents don't really make it look like anything that appealing, and she doesn't see it anywhere else where it seems to be a good thing except maybe in a movie. She didn't know that it really was outside of them, and she thinks she'll be fine without it._

_In middle school, she gets a crush on a boy at school, but she's not in love, and she knows it. Love isn't doodling hearts or staring all day. When she actually works with him on a school project, she finds he's just a face. The actual person has no appeal to her at all._

_High school is the same, if maybe a bit worse due to the pressure of things, the need to be popular. She joins the Heathers. They have even more social expectations. They have more parties. The demand that she find a guy like Chandler and McNamara have is repeated and implied every second._

_Veronica doesn't want one._

_She is over high school boys._

_Except... JD comes along, and even though he's damaged and pushes her away, she wants him. She wants to stay with him, to know him, to be with him forever._

_She doesn't think love exists, she knows it's too soon to call what they have love, but she knows... she could love him._

_Some parts of her already do._

_She cannot lose him. Ever._

* * *

“Hey. You're awake.”

Veronica frowned, trying to understand. Her head felt... big. Thick and wrong. She ached. She remembered feeling a bit like this the one time she got so sick when Heather made her drink at that party, but even that didn't compare to the throbbing, the heavy way her head felt right now.

Wait. Whose voice was that? She wasn't even so sure she knew it.

“Wh... who...?”

“Wow, you are brain damaged. You really couldn't recognize my voice?”

“Heather, what is wrong with you? Why would you say something like that?” McNamara demanded, sounding really upset. Veronica had never heard her like that before, so worked up she even stood up to Chandler?

Maybe she _was_ brain damaged.

“It's a coping mechanism,” Duke said. “She's not the only one that does it, Heather. I do, too.”

Veronica didn't want to listen to them argue. She couldn't handle it, not with her head pounding like it was. She couldn't do this. She couldn't do any of this. She couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't go back to sleep where it might not hurt so much.

“You look tired,” Betty said. “How are you feeling? Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe we should let her sleep again,” McNamara said. “If she's tired, she should be able to get some rest. She should rest so she gets better.”

Veronica wanted to sleep. She did. She also knew she couldn't. Her mind couldn't quite figure out why. She was hurting too much and it was so strange, all these people here—why would the Heathers ever share a room with Betty Finn?

“My... my parents...?”

“They know you're here,” Chandler told her. “They've been here. They're back out with the doctors now, maybe the cops. I'm not sure which ones pulled them out.”

“Cops...?”

“They'll want to talk to you, I'm sure,” Chandler went on. “You're the only one who knows for sure what went down in your backyard. Well, the only one around here, anyway. We've got theories, but I'm not sure everyone believes them. Your parents don't want to.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I guess they want to blame your boyfriend for everything,” Betty said. “I... I didn't even know you had one.”

“'S new,” Veronica said, her head still throbbing. Cops. Her parents. Boyfriend. Backyard. It was too hard to make sense of that. And yet she knew... she knew there was something really important there. She knew it. She did. She knew it mattered. She just needed a bit more time to think...

_“Jason, get over here. We're going. Now,” JD's dad ordered. He sounded so cold. So mean. The evil in his voice made the throbbing in his head worse. “Now, unless you want me to finish that girl off right here. Because I will. You know I will. She touched you, and you know how I feel about that. I don't share.”_

_“Please,” JD choked out. Just... just let me say goodbye.”_

_“Fine. Make it quick. And no kisses. You know better than that.”_

_She shuddered, and JD was next to her. His hand was warm, holding onto hers. Something scratched her palm. His voice came into her ear._

_“Don't die. Please, Veronica. Don't. Just... you have to make it. You have to live. If you live... I can live. I'll make it back to you. You just... you hold on. Stay alive. Your parents... they'll find you. They'll get help. You... you just live for me. Please. Don't let him take you because of me. Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I never... I knew he... this is all my fault. I shouldn't have let you close... I just...”_

_“That's it, Jason. She dies.”_

_“No, I'm coming. I'm coming.”_

_His voice was gone. Her hand was cold. She was alone._

_JD was gone._

“Where is he?”

“Who?”

Chandler snorted. She came over and touched Veronica's arm, actually taking her hand. “They think maybe he's at the address that was on that paper he left in your hand. That's what his mom and my cousin thought. They took off as soon as they heard, didn't wait for the police, barely waited for her stitches.”

“Hurt.”

“I bet it does.”

Veronica sighed. “No... his dad... he kept... he was... going to kill me...”

“Oh, my god,” McNamara whispered. “How could he? I don't—”

“The guy's a first class creep who is obsessed with his son and won't let him go,” Chandler muttered. “He threatened Veronica so her boyfriend would go with him.”

“Wasn't... his fault... he... would... I tried... stop his dad... he would have gone... before... to save me. I... I wouldn't let him.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Chandler muttered. “Look, your parents, they don't get it, but then again, his mom had a few choice things to say about your parents letting Bud Dean past them. She was pissed—and scared to death. I think she would have ran off on the spot to find him, but she was bleeding out pretty bad.”

“She... okay?”

“Doubt it. She wasn't about to rest until she went after him again,” Chandler answered. “At least Scott was in decent shape. He'll need to be if he catches up with that asshole.”

“Address?”

“I never saw the paper, Veronica. You'll have to—”

“Need... go,” she said, knowing she had to try. “Need... see...”

“Not going to happen,” Duke said. “Are you insane? You almost died. You have a really bad concussion. They were afraid they'd have to operate on your head. No. You're not moving.”

“Have to,” Veronica said. “He... he'll give up... thinks dead... might already... you don't understand... he was so... you didn't see... what remembering... did to him...”

“Don't do anything stupid,” Chandler said. “McNamara, Duke, go get her doctor. Maybe she'll listen to him.”

* * *

“Would you stop looking at the spedometer?” Scott asked, and Tricia grimaced. She knew it wasn't fair, but she couldn't help it. There was so little for her to do as a passenger, and she felt completely out of control, her son missing and in the hands of his monstrous father again, her side sore and aching after she'd been kidnapped without even a chance to fight back.

She hadn't saved herself. Scott had found her and gotten her out. And it might not even matter that he had, not when Bud had Jason and everything was so messed up. That girl was in the hospital because she was close to Jason, because he cared about her and she cared about him.

“I assure you, I'm going as fast as I dare,” Scott told her. “Any more, and this old jalopy's engine will probably explode on me. That, and we're already damned likely to get pulled over.”

She winced. “I know, but I just—”

“Trish, I don't want anything to happen to JD. I know it's not much of a consolation, and I'm not trying to say you should be, not when Bud has that boy, but I won't stop until we get him back. I won't quit. If I'd known before how to find you, if I could have—I would never have left you alone with this. Even if you didn't want me. I loved you. I loved him. I—that didn't change. I would still do anything for you. Either of you.”

She looked at him. “I—Scott—”

“I am not doing this because I expect anything from you,” he said. “I would do it for any boy I knew of that was in JD's place, but I loved that boy like my own. I know he—well, that's probably not—he wouldn't want that now. He's older. He's not interested in any father figures.”

She winced. “I... He loved you, Scott. I know he did. I... Sometimes he even asked about you. I think he still misses you. You... it was the best ten months of our lives. It... it just went so wrong after that... I screwed up so badly...”

“You did what you thought you had to do,” Scott told her. “You can't—Heather doesn't know what it was like for you. She's been spoiled most of her life, and I hope today she got some hard wake up calls, but who knows? She's got no right to judge you. No one does. No one knows what it was like, what decisions you had to make just to get by. I know I might have—I was hurting, and I had to say it. I would have given anything for you to come back to me.”

Tricia knew that. He was a good man, Scott was, through and through, and she probably had been wrong not to go back to him, but she'd thought Bud would find them there, and she'd been so guilty, so horrified by how broken Jason was, she couldn't bring herself to go back. She couldn't be happy.

She'd punished herself, and she knew it.

She shook it off. “There. The exit. According to the sign, it's the next one.”

“You sure?”

She lifted the map again. “Yeah. It's still a few miles up off the county road and then onto the dirt ones. We... it... it still seems so far away from here.”

“We're closer. And the police shouldn't be too far behind us... if we even need them.”

“What do you mean?”

Scott gave her a rueful grimace. “That I fully intend to beat the shit out of that man as soon as I see him. I mean...”

She felt her cheeks warm as he turned them off the highway. “I shouldn't be glad about that.”

“You want me to leave him for you?”

She snorted. “I'm too weak. I always have been. I... I thought about shooting him, even got a gun... that didn't save us... nothing has...”

“We're getting him back, Trish. We will get Jason back. I need you to tell me where to turn, though. When do we get off this road?”

“Um...” she put her hand over her side and consulted the map. “Look for a road up on the left. It's road sixty-six and a third.”

“Okay. When we go in, you just concentrate on getting JD out and back to the car. Even if... even if you leave me behind again, just get him and go.”

“Scott—”

“Please don't argue. You're hurt. There's a good chance he will be, too. We don't know how bad, but I doubt Bud parked the car and said, 'gee, let's take a nice break and have a kind, gentle moment between father and son.' If he's anything like my dad, he's pissed as hell and going to hurt him, probably beat the hell out of him at the very least. So... I'll distract Bud. You get Jason out and away. I can take whatever he does to me.”

She sighed. She wasn't going to leave him, not really. That was something no one deserved, and she couldn't do. Once Jason was safe in the car, she'd make sure that Scott joined them, too.

“That one,” she said, realizing they'd just passed sixty-six. The next one should be the road they were looking for. They were close. They had to be.

He turned off, taking the dirt road. “Almost there.”

She nodded, still afraid of what she was going to find when they got there.

* * *

Scott stopped the jeep, parking it a bit back from the building he could see ahead of them. He didn't want to get any closer and tip Bud off that they were coming. He didn't want that bastard to have a chance to prepare an ambush or do something that would hurt JD.

Scott went around to the back, opening the gate and grabbing a hammer from his tool box. Not the greatest weapon in the world, but he didn't have a gun and he was a decent handyman. He could use a hammer well.

Trish didn't say anything to it, but then he had already put a bit of distance between himself and the jeep, heading up toward the cabin. They could be wrong about what this address was, but he hoped they weren't, if only because they had no idea where JD was if Bud hadn't taken him here.

He didn't know what they'd do if Bud was somewhere else. JD could be anywhere, and Scott wasn't stupid. Bud would likely have forced himself on the boy at least once by the time they found him, maybe already had today.

Damn it. Scott hated this. He didn't want to think that, but he knew the kind of man Bud was. He doubted the man had waited very long to hurt JD.

Scott forced himself on, hearing a voice as he got close to the porch. The inner door was open, the screen door in place.

“Idiot. You idiot. You can't do this to me, Jason.”

Scott took another step closer to the door, now able to see Bud leaning over the boy, holding a blood soaked cloth over the boy's wrist.

“You don't get to die. I told you that.”

Scott winced. JD must have been desperate. Trish was going to have to get him out of here, fast, but at least the bastard was completely distracted by trying to keep the boy alive. Scott took a breath, opened the door and went straight for Bud, swinging the hammer right into his head. He imagined it wasn't much different from what that asshole had done to Veronica.

Bud fell with a moan, not trying to get up. Trish made a noise behind him, and Scott grimaced. He put the hammer down and knelt next to JD.

“Jason—Jay,” Trish corrected herself, joining Scott at JD's side. “Can you hear me? Sweetheart, it's me. It's Mom. I'm safe. I'm okay.”

JD's eyes fluttered, but he didn't open them, didn't answer.

Trish looked at Scott, desperate. “I have no idea how long he's been bleeding like this. I don't...”

“I'll get him to the car. You can sit in the back with him, keep pressure on his wrist. We'll get him help. Take him to the hospital.”

She nodded, tears streaking down her cheeks. She didn't ask him to tell her everything would be okay. And she wasn't going to. They both knew he couldn't promise that.


	15. Waiting for a Sign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're at the hospital. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like only Scott's scene in this chapter worked. The others were... difficult.

* * *

_Every time she gets him back, it's the same promise again._

_He'll never find you again. I'll keep you safe. It's over. We're okay now._

_He is very, very tired of the lies._

_He's not going to listen again. He doesn't believe. He never will._

* * *

“You can arrest me,” Scott said as he finished explaining the whole mess to the detective. He didn't know if they ever sent anyone out to that address. He didn't remember seeing anyone, but he'd been speeding as fast as could after they found JD, needing to get him medical treatment as soon as they could.

Scott couldn't blame the boy for trying to end it. Even with what he'd done in putting that paper in Veronica's hands, JD had no guarantee he'd be found, and even if he was... Bud had hurt him. Scott had seen the damage firsthand, and Trish probably saw a lot more after they got in the jeep. 

He didn't think he would have had much fight left in him if he'd been in that situation, not even to take matters into his own hands, which JD had done. As terrible as it was, it seemed better.

“I'm not going to arrest you.”

Scott blinked, looking up at the cop in confusion. “I told you what I did. I walked right in there and smacked him with a hammer. I didn't warn him. I didn't care if I killed him. I... I wanted to kill him. I would have done it with my bare hands, but I stopped... Had to. JD was bleeding. It looked bad...”

“You hit a guy beating on a kid. I'm not arresting you.”

Scott shook his head. “I told you—he had the rag wrapped around JD's wrist. He was trying to stop the kid from bleeding out. He... Right then, he was no threat, and I knew it.”

The detective put a hand on Scott's shoulder. “Look, he kidnapped his kid. The boy was beaten and God knows what else. You did what you had to, and you stopped him. I'm not arresting you for that.”

Scott stared at him. “I don't understand.”

The other man sighed. “You don't know what it was like, telling that boy that I couldn't do anything about his mom. He looked like I'd sucker punched him, and I felt like I'd kicked a puppy. My hands were tied by regulation, nothing else. And we got that call about the girl... Trust me, I don't need any more guilt. I've got enough, and I won't add to it by arresting you for doing what we were too damned slow to do. That kid is alive because you went after him and got him away from his father. Not us. I'm not going to arrest you. I refuse to add that onto my list of sins.”

Scott almost asked him how he felt about lying, since the truth of the matter was what he'd said before and what he should swear to if he was asked.

“Bud was alive when I left, but... I don't know if he will stay that way. That gonna make any difference?”

“Not to anyone around here.”

“I... I don't understand,” Scott admitted. Everyone knew about his dad and his drunk rages, and no one did a damned thing about them. They hadn't helped, hadn't arrested his dad, not even when he was drunk in public and driving and they knew what he'd go home to do and the drunk driving was already illegal.

“That girl may not be a Chandler, but she's still a teenage girl, and you don't go hitting them without consequences. Add in what happened to the ex-wife and the boy... No one here is going to want that man around to make more trouble here. Sherwood's a quiet place. We don't have this kind of problem, not usually.”

“Yeah, well, in my experience, when you 'don't have this kind of problem,' you make it disappear by refusing to acknowledge it ever happened. Bud Dean would walk out a free man, and I'd get some bogus charge of assault that they'd drop if I stopped 'spreading my lies.'”

“We're not all like that. I'd like to hope more of us are like me, but I know that not all of us are. You dealt with some bad before, and I'd bet that kid and his mom did, but this isn't the same. This time, we're on your side where we're supposed to be. Serve and protect.”

Scott nodded, though he still felt numb and was having trouble believing anything the man said. He just hoped getting off easy now didn't come back to bite him in the ass later.

It always had before.

* * *

“How is he?”

Tricia looked up as Scott came into the room and then her eyes went back to her son. Jason had too many bandages, though she'd actually seen him in worse shape, which seemed difficult to believe. Bud tended to keep his abuse of Jason to the one part, like it somehow was fine that he 'never hit' Jason when he'd done so much worse than put a hand to him. Still, he'd forced them off the road one time, and Jason's side of the car took the worst of it, nearly killing him.

She still couldn't believe Bud had walked away from that one, but they kept telling her that they 'couldn't prove' he'd been behind the wheel of that car.

“He hasn't woken up yet,” she said, her stomach twisting with the words. Her side was aching again, but nothing compared to the fear and knowing that Jason could have died before they found him, that he almost had on the way back... and the knowledge that he'd done that to his own wrist.

He'd tried to kill himself. Again.

“He lost a lot of blood,” Scott said. “He'll be weak for a while yet, and they said the other stuff... he had a lot of bruises and scrapes... I almost wonder if he might have tried... jumping out of the car to get away from Bud.”

She closed her eyes with a wince. “Oh, I bet he did. If that wasn't enough to save him, it's no wonder he did that to his own wrist.”

“Trish—”

“Don't tell me it's not what I think it is. I know what it is. I'm not stupid. And it's not the first time. Not for either of us.”

“Shit.”

She shouldn't have said it, but then she had to. Scott had this ideal of her, some woman she wasn't and could never be. She was not that strong. She'd been so weak, over and over again, and she couldn't be what he wanted her to be.

“The stupid thing is I thought... I thought sometimes he'd be better off if I did it. That I was so bad, such a failure with him, not keeping him safe...” She wanted to throw something and break it. “It was a long time before the drunk part of me actually figured out the truth—I would just have been making it easier for Bud to hurt him.”

“Yeah,” Scott said, not holding that one back. She knew it was dumb. She had just been so... tired, so guilty... she wanted out and she would have convinced herself of just about anything to be able to do it, to get herself free, to make her think she was doing right for a change.

“He caught me, and I never tried again,” Tricia said, looking back at Jason. She lowered her head. “He did. At least once after getting free of his dad...”

“You better not be blaming yourself for that.”

“I...”

“Trish, he was hurting bad. Maybe not in body but in spirit. Having someone do that to you, it takes away things you can't even explain. Even when it was just my dad hitting me and never being able to so much as make his eyes water... It was so demoralizing. I felt pathetic. Weak. Like I'd always be stuck being his punching bag. And it was worse, knowing my mom would never step in, never help... I wanted to end it myself plenty. And I might have done, if I wasn't such a damned coward. He wasn't blaming you or hating you or anything like it. He was just in too much pain to deal with it properly.”

She looked down at her hands. “I didn't ever really... see that part of you. I saw you... happy. Good. You were kind and nice and...”

“And I didn't want to bring up bad memories for you or even for me,” Scott said. He reached over to touch her hand. “You get good at pretending that it didn't happen. That town certainly didn't want to see it, and I mean, sure I knew the pity was still there, but none of them cared enough to do anything to stop it. It wasn't like she dropped charges or anything. I certainly didn't, but then they also never bothered to ask me. I just... I didn't want it to be about that. Maybe if I'd told you a lot more about that, you might not have... or maybe you would have, thinking to spare me. I didn't want that. You... you seemed worth any bad memories or pain that might come. Same with him. I so wanted to give you everything I never had. That house wasn't much, and no one would have bought it, but I'd still have sold up and moved if you'd wanted or—”

“Scott—”

“I know. I sound stupid.”

“It's sweet,” she disagreed. “Too sweet. More than I deserve.”

“Quit blaming yourself for what Bud did. You didn't hurt JD. He did. And you did a hell of a lot more than—than some mothers do. You are good to him,” Scott said. He touched her cheek. “He loves you. And while he might not be awake yet, he'd tell you you deserve more. A lot more.”

She managed a small smile. “I think... I think he'd like it if you... if you stayed.”

“I'm not planning on leaving unless someone kicks me out.”

* * *

“Veronica, this is insane, and you know it,” Chandler said, but she refused to listen. She wasn't staying in that bed when she knew JD needed her. She had been trying to get them to listen to her before, but no one did. They kept telling her she had to stay put, but she didn't want to stay put. She didn't care how much her head hurt.

She had to get to JD.

“Heather's right,” McNamara said. “You shouldn't be moving.”

“You can help me get to JD or you can get out of my way,” Veronica said, though her words were a lot stronger than her voice or even her body at this point. She probably shouldn't move, but she wasn't staying here. Not now. Not when JD was in danger.

“That's insane,” Duke told her. “You're going to hurt yourself worse than you already are. Just... stay here. I'm sure they'll send word on him again. They told us they found him, so you just have to... rest and get better and they'll take you there when you can actually see him.”

“I am going,” Veronica insisted, stumbling toward the door. She was not waiting for them to give her word. She wanted to see JD now. She had to. She knew she did.

“Here, Veronica,” Betty said, coming to her side. “I'll help you.”

Veronica gave her a weak smile. That was Betty, always a true friend, even when Veronica really didn't deserve it. She leaned on her as they walked to the door.

“You don't even know where he is,” Chandler said. “He could be on a whole other floor. Just—”

“No. I am not going to sit around and wait. I am finding JD. I know I need to, and I... I can't not do this. I know you don't understand, but then... neither of us has ever been where he's been, and I hope we never will, but I... I can be there for him now, and I'm not...”

“It's still batshit crazy. You're going to fall over, and I can't believe Miss Priss is going to help you do this.”

“Betty's helping because she's a friend.”

“We're all your friends. We're trying to stop you because we're your friends.”

“No. I need to do this. You'd understand that if you understood me at all,” Veronica insisted, and she made another move for the door, almost falling into it as it opened.

“I'm sorry. I... Trish was hoping to find out how you were doing. She thought JD would like to know you were okay. I'm afraid we didn't wait around before. We should have—”

“Finding him was what mattered,” Veronica insisted. “I just... is he awake? Did he—”

“He hasn't woken up.”

“Can I see him?” Veronica asked. “I don't know where his room is, but I was going to walk until I found it. I just... I need to see him.”

“I think he'd like it if you were there,” Scott told her. “Though your parents—”

“Fuck them,” Veronica said. “They didn't listen and they let him into the house. Take me to see JD. Now. Please.”

* * *

Tricia frowned as Scott led Veronica into the room. She was still in her hospital gown, and she looked like every movement pained her, but she didn't stop, going straight for the bed. She reached for Jason's hand, not the one he'd cut but the one that didn't have a bandage there, and wrapped her hands around it.

Tricia had wanted to do that herself, but for some reason, she just sat there, staring at her own hands instead.

“Oh, God. I was afraid I'd never see you again,” she said, leaning close to him. “I know... I remembered what you said, and I wanted to promise... but I couldn't... and I was so afraid...”

Tricia forced herself up and over to touch the girl's back. “He's alive. And... thank you. You... you fought for him. And I know—I can't ever repay that.”

“He's worth fighting for,” Veronica said. “I'm... I'm so sorry I... my parents didn't listen...”

“That's not you. That's them, and they'll have to deal with that,” Scott told her. “We're both just glad he had you when he needed you. Or... I suppose I shouldn't speak for you, Trish.”

“In this case, you're right,” she said, though she didn't necessarily want anyone speaking for her. Bud had done that too much. “I don't blame you for what they did, and I am very glad you were there for Jason.”

“You know he hates that name, right?”

“I know, but I named him it, and it's a hard habit to break,” Tricia told her. “I'm working on it.”

Veronica gave her a small smile. Then she looked down at Jason again. “I wish I'd hit him harder. Bud, I mean. I wanted to stop him, but it wasn't enough...”

“He deserved it and a lot more,” Scott said. “I actually got him with a hammer, so...”

Veronica really smiled then. “Good. I hope he dies.”

She was a little scary like that, Tricia thought, but since she was scary in the sense of protecting her son, Tricia could probably forgive her.

Veronica leaned her head on the bed next to Jason. “I'm going to stay here for a minute. Head's hurting again.”

“You should probably lie back down in your own bed.”

“Not leaving him,” Veronica said. “He promised to live if I lived. He said he'd make it back to me. So he's keeping his promise because I'm staying right here.”

Tricia felt Scott's hand on her shoulder, and as messed up as things were right now, this all seemed right—Veronica here, holding Jason's hand—and Scott, too. His presence was such a relief.

Jason stirred, tugging his hand away from Veronica. 

“It's me,” Veronica told him. “JD, I'm here. I'm alive. My head is killing me, but I'm not dead. You're not dead. We're together. Your mom is here. And Scott.”

He made some kind of noise, a protest, maybe.

“I'm here,” Tricia said. “Scott's here. We found you, baby. You're safe. Your father can't get you now. Scott hit that asshole with a hammer, and if he dies, we will all celebrate. I swear it.”

“'S... not my mom... no cussing...”

Tricia laughed in spite of herself, relief washing over her.


	16. Despite You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate endings. They are impossible to get right.

* * *

_He doesn't understand happiness._

_He wants to, but he really can't remember when he ever was. He was so young when his dad said they could have a secret, and he thought that he wanted it, but it was so wrong and horrible he hated himself for it. After that, happiness was all fake, always._

_He forces smiles when his mother gives him gifts. They both lie and pretend they can afford it or that they won't lose it when they have to run again. He forces smiles when they settle in a new town and she says they're starting over._

_He wants to be done with it._

_He knows it's never going to work. They're never going to be happy._

_Not as long as his father is out there._

* * *

“Scott?”

“Hmm?”

Tricia lifted her head from his side, looking up at him and then over at the bed. The kids were asleep, so she had to keep her voice low. She didn't want to wake Jason or the girl. Veronica had been through a lot as well, and she should be resting.

She should be in her own bed, but Tricia already knew they'd lose that battle. Her parents, her friends, and the doctors had already tried that, and Veronica had refused them all. For a moment, Tricia had thought she was going to grab something and hit them with it if they'd tried to force her out, but fortunately no one let it get to that.

Veronica was devoted to her son, and Tricia knew that even if no one else liked that, she did. Jason was going to need that and so much more. No one had actually tried to talk to him about what happened when his father took him, but there was a good chance it had been as he feared, and that would devastate him all over again.

“I want to get Jason out of the hospital as soon as possible,” she said. “I... I don't want to take him back to a crummy motel, but I want to get him away from... here. He... he's never liked doctors, and the hospital just means more bad memories, him being hurt and still given back to his father and... and some of those doctors... they weren't... kind. Or gentle. Or the least bit sympathetic. Do you know what I mean by that?”

“Fucking assholes who blamed him for what his dad did to him?”

She nodded, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes again. “They blamed my little boy. Not all of them. No, but enough where with all his dad did—”

“I would very much like to go punch all of them in the face.”

She tried not to laugh. Instead, she reached up and put her hand on his cheek. “I love that you're so protective of him. Would you... would you be willing to look for a place we could stay for a bit? A real while, not just a cheap motel. I know I don't have much, and I don't even know if—”

“Trish, I'd buy you the moon if I could. If you're willing to let me, I'll pay for the place myself.”

She lowered her head. She shouldn't let him do that. She was not a charity case.

He lifted her chin. “I mean, if you really want to make sure it's fair, I'll get a place with three rooms and claim one for myself. Then it's my space I'm sharing and paying for.”

“You can't afford that.”

“So I'll sell the shithole back home. I never liked that place. The only good memories I ever had there were with you and Jas—JD. I would much rather be here, and we both know JD's not going to want to go anywhere without Veronica. As much as her parents are going to hate it, this is where he'll want to stay.”

“Kind of a lousy spot for his first real home.”

“I don't think it will be his first home,” Scott said. “I'm... I'm thinking that's going to be when he and that girl settle in together, much as her parents are going to hate it and you won't love that you weren't able to give him that, but this? It's still going to be temporary. He's only got a few months before he turns eighteen.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Scott winced. “I... I wasn't saying that to hurt you. I didn't want that.”

“I know. You're just being practical. And you're right.”

He leaned his head against hers. “I'd like to give you a real home, though. Here, there, wherever it is he ends up so you can stay close to him... I'd like to give you that.”

“Oh? And here I was thinking you needed it.”

“I do. So... we'll do it all together. First thing in the morning, I'll go talk to a realtor, see what we can find. Maybe there's something we can get into by the end of the night. I think he'd prefer that.”

“Yes.”

“I know it's a bit sudden, moving in together and all, and it's not the way I wanted to do it—I had this fancy dinner in mind, sunset on the back porch after I got it fixed up, and I was going to show you my crappy land and ask you to share it with me or something dumb like that and—”

“Scott, did you—you didn't—there's not—”

“A ring? Oh, yeah, there is. It's been sitting in a drawer for a few years because I was too stupid to take it back, but... yeah. There's a ring.”

Tricia closed her eyes, shaking as she leaned against him. A ring. Oh, God, he'd gotten her a ring.

“I'm not saying that to pressure you or anything. I just wanted you to know. Well, I mean... I always intended to tell you someday. Not today, but—”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I don't... maybe I'm wrong, maybe it's stupid, but... yes. The answer would have been and should have been and still is... yes.”

* * *

His head hurt, though it wasn't the only part of him that did. His whole body ached. Jumping out of that car had been kind of stupid, but he'd been desperate. He figured he'd die out there on the road, and maybe he'd lied to Veronica, but she was gonna die, and he didn't want to live as his father's prisoner. Not again. That hurt too much, and it couldn't be all he ever did, all he ever was. Not again.

He'd rather die. He'd tried to die.

He should have died. It would have been better than living with his dad.

He kind of remembered hearing voices. One sounded like Veronica's, another like his mom's, and the last like Scott's, but no... Scott was years ago in the past. They left him behind, never went back...

No. Wait. He was here. He'd come. Not for JD, but for some reunion. He'd found them. He'd promised to help him find his mom. He'd gone to find her—had he found her? Did Scott find his mom? Had... Did JD go with his dad for nothing?

No, not nothing. He would have killed Veronica. JD had no choice. He'd had to go. He couldn't let his dad hurt her.

He groaned and tried to put his hand to his head. His arm didn't want to move, and his body felt like it was on fire, every scrape burning in the air.

“Easy,” Veronica said. “You got tangled up in the blankets again.”

He opened his eyes and stared at her. “I... you...”

She reached up to brush back his hair. “I'm here. He didn't kill me. This isn't a dream. My head is killing me, but I'm okay. I promise.”

He swallowed. “I thought...”

“You thought I was dead. That your mom was. I know. We're okay. Your mom's here. Not here, here—she just went to the bathroom, but she's here at the hospital. Scott found her. He found you, too. Though... you did that. You gave them the address.”

JD winced. “I...”

“That was where he wanted you to meet him, wasn't it?”

JD nodded. “Told me... three days...”

“You really were going to go to him?”

JD turned away from her, not able to look at her. He'd known he had to go because of his mom. He'd let Veronica convince him to try everything else—the cops, her parents, a lawyer... He'd have gone on the third day if his dad hadn't shown up and forced him to go earlier.

“I know why,” Veronica said, taking his hand. “And I don't—I wish you could have believed we'd find her and you didn't have to, but I know why you thought you did. I know why you did go with him. You did for me. I heard you.”

She leaned over him, using her other hand to guide his eyes back to her. “Whatever he did, it wasn't your fault—just going with him doesn't make it your fault. It's still him. He used us against you. That's all. You went because you wanted to protect us. It was still forced. What he did was still wrong, but not your wrong. His.”

JD frowned. “I don't... I'm not... he...”

“Scott hit him with a hammer. We haven't heard how bad that was, but he can't get you this time. The cops already said that. He hurt me. He kidnapped you. If he lives, he's going to jail.”

JD stared at her. “They never arrested him before.”

“Cops are different here. And he didn't just hurt you. It's over this time, JD. Really over. He can't get you again.”

“If they let him out—”

“We're getting a gun, I'm learning to shoot, and we'll kill him,” Veronica said. “No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

* * *

“What do you think? I know it doesn't look like much in this state—owners had some awful taste in décor, but it's a decent enough set up for now, right?” Scott asked, and from the way he spoke, Veronica knew he was hoping he'd made the right choice, that JD and Trish were going to like it.

She wasn't so sure he had to worry about that. She had a feeling JD would have liked anywhere that wasn't the hospital or a cheap motel, and while the furniture was pretty hideous—decades old and in the worst possible colors—it was still better than the dump that was the motel.

“It's... nice,” Trish managed, and JD snorted, almost doubling over as he laughed. Veronica rushed over to help him, but he waved her off and sat down.

“It's a shithole,” JD said. “But it's ours and it's not his, and that... that makes it fucking perfect.”

“Language, Jason.”

“Mom—”

“I'm sorry. Jay, watch your language,” Trish corrected, giving him a pointed look. “And... you're just laughing, right, sweetheart? You didn't tear stitches or hurt yourself—”

“I'm fine. Not going back to the hospital,” he said. “I mean... I'm sore. A lot of stuff... hurts. The doctors did tell me I was stupid for jumping out of the car.”

“Not stupid,” Veronica said, irritated. “It was—you had to try. I mean, I'm not happy because it could have killed you, but you couldn't just sit there. Not that—I wouldn't judge you if you had—no one has any right to judge you.”

She took hold of his hand, knowing that as much as she had said it was over, it wasn't for him. He still had to live with what his father had done, and people would talk. He would have to face his dad at trial if it went to that. This wasn't going to be easy.

Her parents weren't going to make it easy. She knew they didn't like the fact that she was here, but she didn't care. She'd run if she had to, but she wasn't leaving JD alone. He deserved so much better than that, and she was still mad at them for believing his dad over her.

“It's a start, at least,” Scott said, coming over to Trish's side. “At least... I hope it is.”

“I think so,” she said, looking up at him with a warm smile. He wrapped his arms around her, and she closed her eyes in contentment. “We owe you so much.”

“Don't even start. This is the least of what the two of you deserve. A home, a place where you can rebuild. JD can finish school, date Veronica and annoy her parents like any teenage boy... You've got that job, but you can do something else if you want, and I can find work here.”

“I say we just kidnap Veronica and take her with us,” JD said, and she looked at him. He pulled her into his arms, ignoring his injuries. “Right, Ronnie? You'd run with us if you had to.”

“Yes,” she answered. “But I don't think I will.”

“The trial might get rough. School, too.”

“Not if Heather Chandler has anything to say about it, and as much as she was worried about me, she did say if anyone tried to blame JD, she was going to set the record straight. I was a little confused because she's not usually that... nice, but something happened to her. She's... different. She tried to get Duke to do something about the bulimia and... she was nice to McNamara and Betty.”

Scott frowned. “I didn't—well, I hope for her sake she's turning over a new leaf. I guess we'll have to see how that goes for her.”

“Yeah.”

Veronica hoped it stayed like this, honestly. Not just because Heather had said that they were going to cover for her and insist she was spending the night with them even though she was going to be here, with JD, but because Heather could be so much better and happier if she wasn't so mean. People could like her for who she was, not because she was feared. That was better, wasn't it?

“Who's hungry? I figure we may as well treat ourselves and order in for our first night here.”

* * *

JD woke, jerking up in bed and looking around in a panic. Someone was there, and it took him a minute before he realized it was Veronica and not his father. He shuddered, lying back down and trying not to give into that. He wouldn't puke. He wouldn't cry. That bastard didn't get anything else from him. Not again. Not now.

“JD?”

He looked over at her. “I didn't mean to wake you.”

“You don't have to apologize,” she said, scooting closer to him. “I'm surprised I didn't wake you.”

“You had a nightmare?”

She nodded. “He took you, and I couldn't stop him... and I never saw you again. And my parents were jerks and told me to forget... and your mom was... it was bad.”

He figured he knew what had happened to his mom after he disappeared. He reached over to touch her cheek. “I'm sorry.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“He did it because of me.”

“Because he's sick fucking pedophile,” Veronica said. “It's not your fault. It never was. It was always him.”

He sighed. “I don't—”

“I'll keep telling you that until you believe it.”

He snorted. “That's going to take a long time.”

“So? We've got forever, right?”

“Uh...”

“We do. Because as long as I'm alive, as long as I am with you, and I think even if—well, I think we're forever, but even if we're not, I'll still be your friend and tell you it every day. You'll get so sick of me saying it. Just like you'll be sick of me saying I love you.”

He shook his head. “Not likely.”

“Because you don't think you could get sick of that or because you don't believe that I do?” 

He wished she hadn't asked, but since she had, he might as well tell her. “You can't love me. I mean, it's too soon and even if it wasn't, what my dad did—”

“It doesn't make you unlovable. And yes, I keep trying to tell myself it's too soon, and maybe it is, but I feel something. Something really strong and scary and beautiful. I care about you. More than I've cared about anything else. I want you with me. I was so scared when I thought I was going to lose you. So... there's something. We can make it more. I want to make it more.”

“Sure you do.”

“I do,” she said. She hesitated and then asked, “Can I kiss you? I want to, but if you don't want me to, then I won't and—”

He kissed her, not wanting to let her go on like that. This wasn't like with his dad. It was not sick and twisted. It felt good. She tasted wonderful. He would kiss her forever if he could.

Except, of course, they needed air, too.

“You said you'd live for me,” she reminded him, and he flinched. He'd tried to kill himself twice after that promise. “I know you—you could have died with your dad, but you didn't, and I know it's not really fair, but I'd like to hold you to that promise... I'd have made one of my own if I'd been capable of talking... I mean it, JD. I want forever.”

“I'm going to fuck this up, you know that, right?”

“Like I won't. We've both been stupid already.”

“And you could do better.”

“Have you seen the guys that go to Westerburg? Or those Remington assholes?” Veronica shook her head. “No. I want you.”

“I'm messed up, remember? The other night, when we—”

She put her fingers over his lips. “Love is a lot more than sex. We don't have to have that now. The kisses are good. So are the hugs and the snuggles and sleeping together in the other sense of the word.”

“That's enough for you?”

“You are enough for me.”

She was everything for him, so he supposed that was fair. “Okay. We'll try this forever thing.”


End file.
